Chapter II the Young JournalistThis young lady I was speaking to began to finally realize that I was a veteran too and decided to forget asking questions about the other soldier she had come seeking information about. She put her notebook and pencil down and started listening to me. I allowed her to ask questions at first so that I could see what she was hoping to gather. One of her questions was if I would allow her to tape our conversation and I was reluctant at first. However; with that beautiful disposition of attitude she had changed to, it was impossible to say no.“Sir, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I would greatly appreciate if you could tell me how you came to be this way. I know it might bring back memories that may be too hard to bear, but you can stop at anytime, just let me know so that I can turn off the tape recorder. My mother used to tell me stories about my father who was also in the Vietnam conflict and maybe the things you say might help me understand the things I couldn’t when I was a little girl.”She held my hand even though my limbs had very little feelings in them. My heart came to life at that moment as it could feel her warmth. It was a feeling I had felt many years before I had gone into the armed forces. I wanted to cry and tell her a different story about the wife I once had, however; it wasn’t what she had come to hear. I held steady and proceeded to tell her how I had received my wounds and how my disfigured face had lost its identity.I started tracing back the events by beginning with the mission I had been involved in and the date. This was the story I told as the recorder continued to tape every word. It was not as easy as I had envision, but she wiped the tears from my eyes and from hers, and I felt compel to finish.