Daddy Was a Green Beret
By Brandon Young | September 22, 2020
The enemy fire was withering, pinning down the small team of Green Berets under a scorching desert heat. Hemmed in from all sides, the team took its first casualty as the desert sun meandered over the horizon. Nightfall brought reprieve from the heat and enemy contact. As light crept over morning, my dad held his blood-soaked teammate in his arms as he took his last breath. They escaped and evaded across the desert while the last shred of darkness covered the earth, the trek made longer by the weight of loss.
I picked up pieces of the story as a child but always longed for more. Clutching my G.I. Joe figures tightly, I would strain my eyes to my dad’s face, hoping to catch one more shred. I wanted to know. I needed to know. But he would gaze off into the distance and coolly say, “That is a story we can share over a beer someday, son.â€
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