prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Musical bivouac in the California Hills.

I was watching Austin City Limits on my Roku last night. A Mexican band was playing Spanish music. As I listened my memory returned to a night during my Army basic training at Camp Coole. My company was bivoacing overnight in the soft rolling hills of central California. We were some where between Santa Maria and Lompoc.

My company was made up of draftees from Souther California. There were many Mexicans in the company. It was a nice evening. We were settling into our pup tents for a nights sleep. Nearby was a group of 5 or 6 Mexicans. They started to sing. They may have had a guitar, I am not sure. I have always remembered that evening! Beautiful country, beautiful music.They were good singers. I am partial to Spansh music. The evening is an outstanding memory of my time in the Army.

Jesse was one of the Mexicans singing. Jesse and I were on the tenth grade football team at Fremont Junior High in Pomona. He was a better player than me. A year later Jesse and I were in a platoon carrying explosives up Bloody Nose Ridge . That evening Jesse was shot and killed. He sang in the hills of California and he died in the hills of Peleliu Island.

2 comments:

  1. That story took a bad turn at the end. But we still enjoy all your stories from your past.
    Hope you're feeling okay these days.

    ReplyDelete

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