Reunion: #31 Gus Moriarity

Reunion: #31 Gus Moriarity ,

I didn’t think I knew Gus very well
He stood behind me at graduation looking swell
White shirt, blue tie, brown leather shoes, dressed real fine
We talked a while, then he looked at me, scrutinizing my line
“Did you ever attend summer camp?”
I looked carefully and then it came to me
“Loopy?” or did I miss?
“You got it, Gus shouted, “Pisser”
He threw his arm around me like I was his long lost brother
“Do you remember that pissing contest, like no other?”
Yep, I beat the Camp Counselor, Ricky DeSleet
I was 10 years old but I could/piss hit a mark at 9 feet
Ricky, our counselor, sure was pissed
Gus and I both laughed, thinking of how he got dis-ed
Out pissed by a ten year old brat
He hated me long after that

“How long have you been here at school,” I asked
“Oh, I entered only six months ago, into the grad class
My dad got transferred,works at Aerospace”
Then Gus laughed, grinning at my face

That summer we spent some time together on a day it was raining
He told me he had signed up for Marine Officers Training
By coincidence so had I,
but my eyesight just wasn’t sharp enough to enter at 18,
Come back in 12 months, said the recruiter and we can entertain
The standard is easier when a year has passed
He smiled and put his arm round me, patted me on the ass
I not saying Sargent Krebs was gay
but it sure felt that way
By then, the Viet war had begun to sizzle
I never returned, my interest had fizzled
And my ass remained tight
Sarge missed his night

Before Gus and I went off to college
We shared a few beers and swapped a little knowledge
Down at the Old City Lamp
Lighter. I got busy with studies, Gus spent two summers in boot camp
Upon College graduation Gus became a 2nd Lieutenant
He sent me a pic of him smiling in front of a tent
From there he went to Texas for a helicopter training
Within 24 months he was flying recovery missions
in the Viet Nam’s jungle raining
After 36 months, the re-up paper, he did sign
Rescued 34 downed pilots and marines lost behind enemy lines
In the waining days of Kissinger’s peace treaty
A fucking joke for politicians needy
North Vietnamese attacked Saigon
That’s when we realized the chance of winning was gone
Gus flew airlifts of embassy personnel and Vietnamese workers in Saigon
whose lives would ended moments after the US forces were gone
Disobeying orders, Gus returned for a final airlift trip
He could see his Viet love in a flowered pink silk slip
She was there waiting in the yelling crowd
Then came an explosion very loud
A Vietcong rocket blasted him out of the sky
They only found one piece of our guy

We buried a casket adorned with his war medals
empty of Gus, except for one of his feet
A little burnt and worse for wear
It didn’t feel like he was truly there
Those of the old gang who knew Gus attended
With a 6 man honor guard complements of Uncle Sam as intended
Afterwards we drank till darkness over came us
and tears clouded our vision thus
Andy tried to lighten the moo—d
saying maybe they’ll find his foot in his other shoe
We laughed and finished another beer
We tried to hide the latent fear
Knowing Gus was just the first one of us to go
We’d all get our turn to finish so
Bill Nelson left for Canada with his guitar and a folk song
Harry Gatlin disappeared before long
Joe Su Yee went off to Hong Kong to run the family trust
Harold Issacs tried out for the Mets, lasted 6 weeks and then went bust
Jerry Kohn left for Israel, married a chippy
Samy Johnson burnt his draft card and hid in Mississippi
By the end of 4 years, 6 of the gang were dead
In a scroll found at City Hall there names can all be read
I dated Gus’s high school girl, Fillomina Clavollo
Round summer time we married, I still love her so
But when she lay dying, of cancer, just last year
She got confused and called me Gus when ever I came near

Life, you have to live it to know what’s there
Behind every mountain or dark stair
Danger awaits, with luck you’ll escape
But don’t be hoping to hide behind Superman’s Cape
When death grabs up your friends and those you love
Sweeps them away on the wings of a dove
You’ll find yourself alone, trembling with fear
As you sit hunched on a bar stool, drinking your beer