“I Remember…”

Crowding around glowing coals of an open fire-pit, seeking warmth on a chilly winter’s night, laughter resounded as each man reflected on times long past when life was full, and the future bright. Taking turns to relive events caused obscure memories to vividly reawaken, until at last only one remained and attention turned in anticipation. Smoke spiraled high as the breeze picked up, but not a word was said. Lost in deep thought as to what had already been reminisced, the orator struggled with where to begin. This annual get-together for men who had become a brotherhood on a foreign shore when they were mere lads, the bonding adhesive had been a crimson stain, and it now seemed so long ago.

“Come on Cobber, we ain’t got all night,” a friendly heckling voice yelled from the dark. Laughter followed this teasing comment, and finally the last orator remarked. “You all have some fine tales we remember so well, and the bar has been set rather high, but I don’t wish to go down that track for so many old topics make me sad. Instead, I’ll change tact, and I want to reflect on a lighter note.”

Taking a purposeful pause he gazed into flickering fire light, as glowing coals reflected in his pupils, and a light bulb moment produced a knowing smile; his face gleamed in delight. Listeners eager to hear his recital leaned closer, and then as the speaker began, he sighed, “I remember! Yeah it was in the fourth week of rookie training when they marched us up to the hall, some of you fellas even joked we might be going to a ball.” Laughter echoed as knowing smiles relayed they were now set back in time, but silence resumed and hot coals crackled aloud as if eager for the next line.

“In that picture hall they played the movie, ‘Zulu’ remember? Yeah that was the one. We were to be inspired by so much bravery shown by the eleven Victoria Crosses those survivors of the Battle of Rorke's Drift won. I know you lads were caught up in it all as we discussed it for days after. But times have changed, there’s more important things now and we’re never too old to learn. Whenever I consider that movie, there’s so much more I failed to glean back then, but in the heat of the moment my attention span slipped and it was just the medal winners I could see at the time.”

Confused looks exchanged among the crowd that didn’t escape the speaker’s attention. “This year is 2025 not 1970, and I want to say we’re never too old to learn. Not one of us. Why just the other day I read about a US Navy fighter pilot in Vietnam, his name is Captain Charlie Plumb. Amazingly he completed seventy-five combat missions, until his plane was demolished by a Russian SAM surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected from his out of control burning plane and parachuted straight into the enemy’s arms.”

Nodding heads and riveting looks ensured all listeners were now hanging on every word. “Captain Plumb spent the next 6 years in the Hanoi Hilton. Incredibly he survived the brutality of that ordeal, and now lectures on what he learned from his experience.

Well one day he and his wife sat in a restaurant, and a man from another table approached and said, ‘You’re Plumb aren’t you! You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty hawk, and you were shot down!’

Plumb was amazed, ‘How did you know that?’

The bloke chuckled, ‘I packed your parachute.” Then he grabbed Plumb’s hand and shook it, “I guess it worked.’

Plumb agreed wholeheartedly, ‘If your chute hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t be here now.’”

A voice called out, “That’s a true tale, I remember reading about it years ago.” Applause sounded as someone else responded, “Silence, let him finish telling his story.”

After taking a long sip from his coffee mug the orator continued, “Well that night Plumb couldn’t sleep, he wondered about that particular man. What had he looked like in his Navy uniform? How many times had they passed each other without the pilot even bidding him the time of day, or saying ‘Hello?’ After all Plumb was a sort of celebrity, a fighter pilot, and that other man was just a common sailor. It was then the ex-fighter pilot pondered the many hours that particular sailor must’ve spent down in the ship, meticulously packing each chute, and holding in his hands the destiny of total strangers. As a result after that encounter, whenever Plumb gave a presentation, now he routinely asks his audience one important question, “Whose packing your parachute?”

Sobering looks reflected as someone heaped more wood on the dwindling fire. No one commented this time. The orator suggested, “Now that’d be a good question to ask every recruit in training at events like that ‘ZULU’ picture night, don’t you think? After all, most of us only could see those eleven Victoria Cross winners, but what about the other one hundred and thirty-nine or so other soldiers? The other heroes, the cooks, bottle washers, no accounts, who all pulled as one to ensure final victory? If it were only the eleven V.C. winners there on their own they’d have been annihilated.”

“That’s a valid point you’re making there, I’ve never considered it in that light before,” a listener called Milo remarked.

Having their undivided attention now, the orator hastily went on. “So no matter what stage in life we’re at today, be it rookie, career soldier, ex-digger, or even retired and enjoying what’s left of our life, we all should reflect on that same question. All of us have someone who provides what we need to make it through another day in 2025. As any soldier will tell you team-effort is the vital ingredient in any army, and yes, life’s a battle! In today’s society of hustle & bustle and peer pressure, a kind word, compliment, or simple recognition can be more valuable than gold and do so much good. Remember, even that fighter pilot discovered some of the most obscure faces are the most important.”

Giving it a moment for what he’d just said to digest, the speaker continued, “Some of you may not be aware, but in my own case it turned out to be a quiet spoken, patient old Army Chaplain who we never gave second thought to. Rushing to the exit of the Base Chapel at rookie training once, after the entire platoon had been forcibly marched there, I just wanted to escape. Upon quickly reaching the now open door, the old Chaplain pulled me aside, shoved a very small bible in my coat pocket and said, ‘Read this some time lad, it just may come in handy down the track.’ He winked, shook my hand, and walked away. And just like the sailor, who Charlie Plumb struggled to remember, decades later I too struggle to remember that old chaplain also. But his advice is etched in stone, and I’m glad.”

“So here’s that question again for all you fellas when you go back home tomorrow. Whose packing your parachute? Who do you see every day, and not even notice the important roles they’re playing in your life? Wife, kids, work mates, friends, neighbors etc? After all, there’s no time like the present to start looking around for the clock is ticking.”