It was the summer of dissent. The war in Vietnam was now a huge political issue on almost every college campus and every city in the US. People were wearing their hair long, dressed in tie dyed clothes and thinking they were very intellectual. Some of these people would end up in the very place they were dissenting, Vietnam. Most were very naive and actually gave the enemy comfort in knowing that if they could continue to hold out, they would eventually emerge victorious.
I had just returned from Vietnam, after spending almost 14 months there. The difference between the US and Vietnam was immense, but this change happened literally overnight. One day you were boarding a plane in Saigon, the next day you were in the US, total culture shock. You leave the war zone behind you but your comrades are still there, facing the danger every day. You feel the guilt of being able to leave, to get away from the war, but you are also relieved that you are a lucky one, you were walking off the plane.
We landed in Northern California at an Air Force base, not far from the Bay area. They took us by bus from the base to San Francisco where we could catch commercial transport home. The ride was not very interesting, the grass was dry, resembling stray, but it was just rolling hills most of the way into San Francisco. They made two stops, one at the rail station since there was still passenger service at that time and another at the bus terminal. If you wanted to fly you would need to catch a commercial bus to the airport. There was an airline strike at that time, so no one was even going to the airport, just wanting the cheapest and qui8ckest way home. Most guys got out at the bus terminal since it was most likely to have buses leaving soon.
I had an older brother who lived in the south bay area, but we had never been especially close over the years, possibly since he was about 8 years older than I was. I decided to give him a call before purchasing a bus ticket, just to say hello. A woman answered the phone and I asked her if he was at home. She informed me that he was still at work, but I could reach him at a number she gave me. I called that number and he answered, a little surprised when I told him it was me. We chatted for a few minutes, then I told him I needed to catch a bus in San Francisco. He suggested that I stay at their place for a couple of days, they had extra rooms that I could use. I thought about the offer and decided that it sounded like a good chance to meet him and maybe get to know each other better. It must have been 5 or 6 years since we had seen each other when he came home for Christmas. That was the first time I had met his wife and young daughter.
I caught a bus to San Jose which was not that far from where they lived. Although San Jose was not that far it took almost three hours to get there, stopping so many places. When I got off the buss I went across the street to a restaurant and waited for him to pick me up. I had a cup of coffee, still in uniform and duffle with me people would sit and stare. I never knew if they were just curious if I had been to Vietnam, or resented me for the fact that the US was there. It didn't matter, I didn't have to wait long before he drove up. He came into the restaurant and we talked for a few minutes, then he helped me get the baggage into his car. It was a short drive to the town they lived in, the houses all looked the same, small ranch houses with a carport attached. The only thing making them unique was the house number. The conversation had been mostly idle talk, nothing important or personal.
We pulled into their drive and parked under the ever present carport. I left the duffel in the car for the time being, just going in the house. His wife and daughter were there, as was his mother-in-law and father-in-law, making the living room rather crowded. I didn't see much resemblance in his wife and her mom or dad. We all sat in the living room, making me feel as though I should have gotten the bus going home rather than stopping here. I was here so I would make the best of a couple of days before leaving. His in-laws were much more outgoing and friendly than his wife was, I was relieved that someone had humor and could carry on a conversation. I had a feeling that my brother was going to catch hell from his wife later about my staying there at all.
His father-in-law suggested that we all go to a local Italian restaurant for dinner, which sounded good to me. I was not doing well in the crowded room and feeling that his wife was going to jump at both of us. We got into the two cars and went into the shopping area of town, where there were a number of restaurants and bars open, most with outside seating. The restaurant was typical, lots of red checked table cloths and green table mats. The waiter took everyone's drink order, most had wine, but I'm a beer guy, so I had an Italian beer. After the food had been ordered the second round of drinks came, and the second beer was better than the first one. I listened to their conversation, mostly things about their daily lives, but I was not really interested. I kept looking at a waitress, she has a gorgeous body, nice curves and the flattest stomach I think I had ever seen. She seemed to know that she had a great body, presenting it well.
