“Red and yellow checked tables, jukebox playing. It is 5 minutes to 2 in the morning. It is time for you to move on, take your consciousness and go. I’m going to stay here, come and see me. It will always be 5 minutes to 2. Smell the river, the diesel. In a little while the power will go off. So, go on man, time calls again. I’m here, I’ve got the watch. If you get here, really get here, I’ll buy the first beer.”
Then I went back up to Cubi, picked up my seabag, and went down to the terminal about 4 in the morning. I knew better than to go to sleep anywhere else. We did fly out uneventfully that morning. I was asleep almost the entire flight, and when I awoke, it was as the gear thumped down for landing at Iwakuni.
Seven weeks later I was a civilian, looking for a job. All the pictures, letters, and notebooks went into a seabag that I have moved from place to place. I put it away.

Lex’s “Rhythms” led to some email, and to me trying to put some of the story on paper. Opening that seabag has been an adventure. Some memories never lose their power. I hope you caught some echo of your own youthful adventures. I hope I got there. I hope I told it true.
Semper Fidelis