Escaping Ice in
Or maybe it wasn't all night because I remember staying at someone's apartment in
He was infantry. Me, an Army correspondent. We weren't kids. We knew we had seen some serious craziness. Nothing like what our fathers did.
This is all ancient history, 1971. Were you even alive then? Did
Sure. Bad stuff was out there. That's why we were on the road with a can of Sterno.
No, no, no... We weren't drinking it... we hadn't sunk that low... we had the little can set in the console between the two bucket seats and kept the blue flame alive. More cornfields than billboards in those days. The tiny fire made it easy to light cigarettes. We were nervous. Might have even been drinking beers as we cruised through the Midwestern night. Crazy and uptight.
x x x
Where we would end up? Reassuringly our goal was Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge in downtown
The lobby was filled mostly with longhaired scruffy guys wearing cast-off pieces of uniform. Lots of milling around, waiting for the local radicals to find us a flop... or a party. This was the Vietnam Veterans Against the War's first national action, funded largely by Fonda, Graham Nash and others that we learned about later. John and I went, maybe after demonstrating in
The actual Winter Soldier Investigation, Numero Uno, took place back in a small ballroom. You went in, registered, showed your paperwork, told your stories from
x x x
I didn't have much to say as the former editor of the Army's newspaper for the First Logistics Command, a division-sized unit that ran resupply for the Army all over
I forget what John testified to. It's probably in the book. When we got back we held a Veterans' Inquiry into the War in
People listened... a few... more and more over time... we had to say what we had seen. We about filled an auditorium at a Lutheran seminary.
We had to talk... we had seen so much waste and craziness.
Luckily we hadn't tried to take over the GM Building in downtown
We ended up going by the Detroit Institute of Arts, a sane, peaceful place.