Scooping in eggs, bacon,
coffee and grits at the diner,
he wore a dark leather vest
covered in bright patches.
The back of his cap said
Air Force.
His tidy white beard bounced
under crinkling blue eyes.
Oh, you were in Vietnam
I said.
Yep. Turned eighteen
in sixty-eight. My number
was forty-seven,
so I knew it wouldn’t be long.
My best friend’s dad
was an Air Force Recruiter,
so I figured that’d be
the best way to go.
Got down there
and through Basic.
We was all getting
our assignments.
Some got airplane
mechanic and such. I got
Entomological Engineer.
Sounded important to me,
so I was pretty happy.
‘Bout twelve of us in the
class. Instructor said,
Raise your hand if you
know what entomology
is. Not one hand went up.
I been doing it ever since.
Kinda wish I’da stayed in.
Coulda retired at thirty-nine
with a paycheck.
But I thought I’d had enough
of being told what to do.
Now I ride in honor of them
that didn’t make it back.
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