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Pt 1 & Pt 2 Pictures are Worth 1000 Words....
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<blockquote data-quote="daniel brothers" data-source="post: 1033950" data-attributes="member: 23208"><p><span style="color: blue">PART 3.</span></p><p></p><p>While putting the camera back into my fanny pack, I could hear the girls ride up with their loud OOOOOHHHHH's..... and AAAWWWEEEs at the coyote display. I started telling them about the action but they quickly cut me off and said to save it for lunch with Dad, because they all wanted a detailed story... and to get their camera from the house, and they would see me later because they had to go ride the fence line down along the ravine. I waved them goodbye and headed for my Chevy to load up the dogs for making a 7 dog picture at the Ranch. </p><p>It wasn't long before I was driving up to the large circle driveway in front of the ranch house. I noticed that Mr. Durham's Big Red Dually Dodge was gone, so I spent some time arranging the coyotes on the tailgate. I heard footsteps behind me and thought ... Oh my... here comes a ranch hand and I don't know how to speak Spanish. The laugh was on me because the closer he got, and the more he raised his hat up, I could see that he wasn't Mexican at all. His smiling face and near perfect English caught me by surprise as he poured over the display of coyotes in Awe. I told him a little bit of the story, but he was more interested about what I was going to do with them. I jokingly told him that he was welcome to them all, and he quickly accepted the offer with more smiles and hand shaking. Catching me off guard again, I asked, what will you do with them. He commenced into telling me that he was Vietnamese, and that he and his wife, and both of their families would love to make their favorite ancestral dishes with them. </p><p>My raised up eyebrows and shifting facial expression said one thing, while my voice said great, sure thing, there all yours and I can get you some more. He also said that he would save the skins for making me some extra money. I quickly told him that he could have them all and to make all the money he could from them. Now his smile became bigger than his face, so he added a lot of head nods with more hand shaking. About that time Mr. Durham drives up and develops a wide eyed expression of satisfaction and joy. I told him what the girls had said and he quickly told me to jump in, and that he would take me over to another ranch while we waited on the girls to return. </p><p>I told him about my conversation with his hired hand, and he was quick to express his appreciation for my friendly gesture towards this family, and began telling me a lengthy story about Tron and his family while we drove along.</p><p> </p><p>He started out by first saying... Tim... Let me tell you a little story. My relationship with them started when I was stationed over in Nam back in 67. A few of my buddies and I were making our routine search in a secluded village for any new enemy activity. We had been through that area many times during my 2 year deployment, and usually all was calm in that area... but not that day. I guess we were getting too close to Charley this day because they hit us with their full force of fury. There were so many bullets in the air between our two forces, that it was as thick as the monsoon rains. We gave them Hell, but they gave it right back that day... not their usual hit and run. I could see my men on my right flank being hammered with some guys running out of ammo, and down to their side arms. I remember thinking in slow motion... WOW... we should have brought more ammo... which was a very obvious revelation as I watched the carnage spread out everywhere... and I too was down to my side arm. </p><p>My mind raced backwards to my childhood activities with family and friends, which were nice and peaceful for a moment… until the mortar rounds hitting my right flank shocked me back into reality. It was then that I saw my right leg thigh ripped open, and bleeding pretty bad from the shrapnel pieces… which also hit my helmet and the side of my face pretty hard. </p><p>I quickly grabbed my John Wayne scarf from around my neck and tightened it above the wound. Being out of ammo and badly wounded, I crawled into a clump of thick fern-like bushes. I must of past out because the next thing I remember was a local Vietnamese guy was shaking me awake. I wasn't sure of what he was saying, but he motioned me to crawl into his ox driven cart as he helped me to my feet. The ride back to his village was bumpy as the ox struggled to get through the narrow pathway of the jungle... but I was happy, because I was still alive...for now that is.</p><p> As we entered the tiny village I could hear the shouting and screams of angry and frightened people as Charley searched for missing Marines. I understood very little, but I did understand the words...USA... Americans... Marine...and Kill. Then all of a sudden I felt rifles with bayonets being thrust into the pile of debris on top of me. I knew the blades would pierce me any minute, but my new hero friend had piled the grasses and plants upon me so high that their blades couldn't reach me... except for the one that pierced my wounded leg a little bit... it was all I could do to stay quiet. I do remember letting out a muffled silent whimper into my helmet which laid across my face along the bottom of the cart in order to give me a breathing space through the cracks in the wooden floor. </p><p>It wasn't long before the voices subsided, and the cart started moving again. I must have passed out again because I later woke up to the sounds of helicopters and loud music, and the furious movements of being dug out from my ox cart hide. </p><p>After a few months of rehab recovery, I went back to that village with an interpreter to find my Hero. I couldn't believe my eyes as we faced each other in joyful glee, with many words. </p><p>After our joy subsided I was able to use my interpreter to thank him for his help from the deepest part of my heart, and to also tell him that I would do anything to help him and his family in any way. We sat there on the ground for a little while talking, arm waving and a lot of nodding of the head, when suddenly he jumped up and pulled his son and daughter-in-law over beside me and starting say... USA... take... USA... take... here danger... take...help... USA. My interpreter finally said... Sgt Durham, he's wanting you to take them to the USA. I told the interpreter to tell him that I would do everything in my power to take them to the USA. After a whole lot more of hand shaking, back patting, and a flood of words, we bid them goodbye with my promise to help them. After gathering information about them for the evacuation process, we headed back to base camp. </p><p>It took some time and a lot of paper work Tim, but it finally happened and what you see there is the son of my Hero, alive and well... and a legal citizen to boot. His Father would never come, but we were able to get a few more of his relatives into the Freedom of this Great Country.</p><p> </p><p>And the crazy thing Tim about them eating coyote, is that they are welcome to all the wild game and cattle on my place, but they savor those dogs for some reason... I think it's partly because of their heritage, but mostly about rekindling past memories. So Tim, not only have you helped me out, but you have helped out my dearest of friends. </p><p>I turned my head to look out the side window so that he wouldn't see my eyes getting misty. He also told me there was no need to call him Mr. Durham... because that was his Dad... and all his friends called him Bull, which was a nickname he got in the bush for charging into troubled hot spots. </p><p>I said... Bull Durham... just like that movie that Kevin Costner did about baseball... what a good movie that was. Bull turned to me and said... Yeap.. pretty good movie...that was my story. I served with his Dad in the service and told him about my short baseball career... his writers embellished my story a little bit, but that was okay with me. </p><p>So you know Kevin Costner and his Dad...? Oh yes, they come and stay at the ranch now and then... I'll have you over to meet them the next time. They both love to hunt, and would probably go ape crazy about coyote hunting...I'll hook you guys up. </p><p>I didn't say much for the rest of the property tour, from being in shock... I think. </p><p>We finally get back to the ranch and grab Bull's camera, but the dogs were gone. Half confused and looking around I spotted Tron standing by the barn nailing up the last hide. </p><p>We all have a Big laugh with the girls as they ride up to the scene, because Tron didn't know about the picture thing... but that was okay with me because I enjoyed the action of the hunt... but too bad for the PM Boys...LOL.</p><p> Our laughter was broken as the house cook stepped outside onto the front porch and started banging on the triangle ringer for lunch. Bull slapped me on the back and said... Come on Tim... let's go get a bite of lunch. </p><p><span style="color: red">PART 4 IS COMING....LOL..... it will have more hunting action in it..</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="daniel brothers, post: 1033950, member: 23208"] [COLOR=blue]PART 3.[/COLOR] While putting the camera back into my fanny pack, I could hear the girls ride up with their loud OOOOOHHHHH's..... and AAAWWWEEEs at the coyote display. I started telling them about the action but they quickly cut me off and said to save it for lunch with Dad, because they all wanted a detailed story... and to get their camera from the house, and they would see me later because they had to go ride the fence line down along the ravine. I waved them goodbye and headed for my Chevy to load up the dogs for making a 7 dog picture at the Ranch. It wasn't long before I was driving up to the large circle driveway in front of the ranch house. I noticed that Mr. Durham's Big Red Dually Dodge was gone, so I spent some time arranging the coyotes on the tailgate. I heard footsteps behind me and thought ... Oh my... here comes a ranch hand and I don't know how to speak Spanish. The laugh was on me because the closer he got, and the more he raised his hat up, I could see that he wasn't Mexican at all. His smiling face and near perfect English caught me by surprise as he poured over the display of coyotes in Awe. I told him a little bit of the story, but he was more interested about what I was going to do with them. I jokingly told him that he was welcome to them all, and he quickly accepted the offer with more smiles and hand shaking. Catching me off guard again, I asked, what will you do with them. He commenced into telling me that he was Vietnamese, and that he and his wife, and both of their families would love to make their favorite ancestral dishes with them. My raised up eyebrows and shifting facial expression said one thing, while my voice said great, sure thing, there all yours and I can get you some more. He also said that he would save the skins for making me some extra money. I quickly told him that he could have them all and to make all the money he could from them. Now his smile became bigger than his face, so he added a lot of head nods with more hand shaking. About that time Mr. Durham drives up and develops a wide eyed expression of satisfaction and joy. I told him what the girls had said and he quickly told me to jump in, and that he would take me over to another ranch while we waited on the girls to return. I told him about my conversation with his hired hand, and he was quick to express his appreciation for my friendly gesture towards this family, and began telling me a lengthy story about Tron and his family while we drove along. He started out by first saying... Tim... Let me tell you a little story. My relationship with them started when I was stationed over in Nam back in 67. A few of my buddies and I were making our routine search in a secluded village for any new enemy activity. We had been through that area many times during my 2 year deployment, and usually all was calm in that area... but not that day. I guess we were getting too close to Charley this day because they hit us with their full force of fury. There were so many bullets in the air between our two forces, that it was as thick as the monsoon rains. We gave them Hell, but they gave it right back that day... not their usual hit and run. I could see my men on my right flank being hammered with some guys running out of ammo, and down to their side arms. I remember thinking in slow motion... WOW... we should have brought more ammo... which was a very obvious revelation as I watched the carnage spread out everywhere... and I too was down to my side arm. My mind raced backwards to my childhood activities with family and friends, which were nice and peaceful for a moment… until the mortar rounds hitting my right flank shocked me back into reality. It was then that I saw my right leg thigh ripped open, and bleeding pretty bad from the shrapnel pieces… which also hit my helmet and the side of my face pretty hard. I quickly grabbed my John Wayne scarf from around my neck and tightened it above the wound. Being out of ammo and badly wounded, I crawled into a clump of thick fern-like bushes. I must of past out because the next thing I remember was a local Vietnamese guy was shaking me awake. I wasn't sure of what he was saying, but he motioned me to crawl into his ox driven cart as he helped me to my feet. The ride back to his village was bumpy as the ox struggled to get through the narrow pathway of the jungle... but I was happy, because I was still alive...for now that is. As we entered the tiny village I could hear the shouting and screams of angry and frightened people as Charley searched for missing Marines. I understood very little, but I did understand the words...USA... Americans... Marine...and Kill. Then all of a sudden I felt rifles with bayonets being thrust into the pile of debris on top of me. I knew the blades would pierce me any minute, but my new hero friend had piled the grasses and plants upon me so high that their blades couldn't reach me... except for the one that pierced my wounded leg a little bit... it was all I could do to stay quiet. I do remember letting out a muffled silent whimper into my helmet which laid across my face along the bottom of the cart in order to give me a breathing space through the cracks in the wooden floor. It wasn't long before the voices subsided, and the cart started moving again. I must have passed out again because I later woke up to the sounds of helicopters and loud music, and the furious movements of being dug out from my ox cart hide. After a few months of rehab recovery, I went back to that village with an interpreter to find my Hero. I couldn't believe my eyes as we faced each other in joyful glee, with many words. After our joy subsided I was able to use my interpreter to thank him for his help from the deepest part of my heart, and to also tell him that I would do anything to help him and his family in any way. We sat there on the ground for a little while talking, arm waving and a lot of nodding of the head, when suddenly he jumped up and pulled his son and daughter-in-law over beside me and starting say... USA... take... USA... take... here danger... take...help... USA. My interpreter finally said... Sgt Durham, he's wanting you to take them to the USA. I told the interpreter to tell him that I would do everything in my power to take them to the USA. After a whole lot more of hand shaking, back patting, and a flood of words, we bid them goodbye with my promise to help them. After gathering information about them for the evacuation process, we headed back to base camp. It took some time and a lot of paper work Tim, but it finally happened and what you see there is the son of my Hero, alive and well... and a legal citizen to boot. His Father would never come, but we were able to get a few more of his relatives into the Freedom of this Great Country. And the crazy thing Tim about them eating coyote, is that they are welcome to all the wild game and cattle on my place, but they savor those dogs for some reason... I think it's partly because of their heritage, but mostly about rekindling past memories. So Tim, not only have you helped me out, but you have helped out my dearest of friends. I turned my head to look out the side window so that he wouldn't see my eyes getting misty. He also told me there was no need to call him Mr. Durham... because that was his Dad... and all his friends called him Bull, which was a nickname he got in the bush for charging into troubled hot spots. I said... Bull Durham... just like that movie that Kevin Costner did about baseball... what a good movie that was. Bull turned to me and said... Yeap.. pretty good movie...that was my story. I served with his Dad in the service and told him about my short baseball career... his writers embellished my story a little bit, but that was okay with me. So you know Kevin Costner and his Dad...? Oh yes, they come and stay at the ranch now and then... I'll have you over to meet them the next time. They both love to hunt, and would probably go ape crazy about coyote hunting...I'll hook you guys up. I didn't say much for the rest of the property tour, from being in shock... I think. We finally get back to the ranch and grab Bull's camera, but the dogs were gone. Half confused and looking around I spotted Tron standing by the barn nailing up the last hide. We all have a Big laugh with the girls as they ride up to the scene, because Tron didn't know about the picture thing... but that was okay with me because I enjoyed the action of the hunt... but too bad for the PM Boys...LOL. Our laughter was broken as the house cook stepped outside onto the front porch and started banging on the triangle ringer for lunch. Bull slapped me on the back and said... Come on Tim... let's go get a bite of lunch. [COLOR=red]PART 4 IS COMING....LOL..... it will have more hunting action in it..[/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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