Job of a Lifetime


It was the job of a lifetime for me, teaching people to speak English in Hanoi, Vietnam, and getting paid big money for it.

In 1994, the war seemed long over, but for some, it was never going to end, soldiers becoming redundant, and innocent people becoming landlocked, their way of living and thought forever changed, so much so they could never rest, not until their job was done

.

 

Summer was in full swing there and two of my friends joined me, to help me settle in. They had been there twice before. Good old Jim Dyson and His wife John, short for Johnette. They were both older than me by about ten years. I was only twenty-six.

An uncle of mine – Tom -  had served in the Army during the war, got wounded at the Battle of Long Tan. He rarely spoke of it, but when he got drunk he did, and would troll off into his own little world, speaking in Vietnamese, because he had to learn the language, just in case he got caught.

“ Eddie, “ he'd say, breathing alcoholic fumes on me, trying to look me in the eye, “ they tie ya to trees, boy. Then, they cut ya. From ya shithole to ya breakfast. “ Then, he'd look over his shoulder suspiciously,  and smirk, “ We really should make a run for it. “

Uncle Tom was killed by a car walking to the shops in 1986. He had been sober for three years. Hurt my family deeply,





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)