I am heavy handed and a poor speller. If you discover a typo or a mistake, please bring it to my attention. I will make the correction. Some times I am blinded to my errors. I encourage your comments and corrections. My Chapters were to long for Wattpad. Thus, I broke them down to smaller parts. Such as 1a, 1b and 1c etc. To make it easier to read. Thank you. Le David Morris   

Perplexed by Thorns and Roses

Sergeant Robert (Bobby) Olander, Jr. 1960

Life contains the highs of beauty and the lows of ugly. It includes the freedom of love and the bondage of hate. It pushes us toward the serenity of peace and the rage of destruction. What can a person do to change it one way or the other to make a difference?

In less than sixty seconds, I went from the apex of heaven to the pits of hell, which perplexed my mind. I experienced the peak of adoration and affection in my life, and the depth of suffering. Wrath and resentment engulfed my future.

I could not think. My beliefs had collapsed into nothingness. I crumpled into a chair with my hands buffing my forehead. The loss for words guided me to panic, with which I was challenged. The woman, whom I cherished, was spewing out words of molten lava and condemnation faster than my mind would process it. Her father and my mentor had me ejected from the country I had adopted, not to return until four years later.

I was grimacing over what I heard. My legs were shaking in utter panic, as the lack of understanding baffled my every movement. The best I could construe was that she had misunderstood what was said. It was misread to the point that made me flounder in a world of confusion and devastation. The lack of harmony rendered me unable to orient myself from turmoil.

To the utmost satisfaction of my memory, I had done nothing wrong, intentionally nor inadvertently. The previous week in a little Chinese antique shop my bride-to-be, Kulabta (กุหลาบตา – Rose Bud,) was with me. We discovered a seven hundred year old hand painted vase for 4000 Bhat ($200.00.) I noticed she really wanted the vase, but there was not that much money between both of us. Otherwise, I would have bought it for her.

Later her cousin, ดอกไม้สด-fresh flowers,) found a similar vase of the same period for 1000 Bhat ($50.00.) She told me where the store was located, which allowed me to buy it. I was elated, and hugged her cousin in gratitude. I thanked her for helping me find a gift to please Kulabta.

Elation filled me to be able to obtain the vase for my future bride. Since Dawk Mysoad had located the vase for me, I hugged her, and informed her that I loved her like a little sister. I also told her that buying the vase was like I was stealing candy from a baby, at such a low price. Innocent words totally heard out of context.

Evidently, what Kulabta thought she saw was me kissing her cousin, telling her that I loved her, and that I stole the vase.

I attempted to explain what had happened, but Kulabta screamed at me, picked up the vase and threw it. I ducked. The vase hit the wall and burst into many pieces.

Obviously, her daddy, Colonel Tuk, had visited my detachment commander, and told him I had stolen a valuable historic artifact worth several thousand Bhat. He was going to bring charges which would cause me to be imprisoned in a Thai jail for fifteen years. It was simple to explain the circumstances to my supervisor, and tell him that it was an unfortunate mistake. He indicated that he had verified it with Dawk Mysoad. However, Kulabta would not listen to him nor her cousin.

My commander believed me, and said that I would probably beat the case in a Thai Court, but public relations would be bad for all involved. He said that he had checked my records and discovered that I was from Urbana, Illinois. He asked if I'd ever been to Chanute Air Force base. I informed him that I had been there several times with the Reserve Officer Training Corp (ROTC) and Civil Air Patrol (CAP.)

I told him that my ROTC program was one summer short of receiving a commission in the Air Force. The reason for not finishing was my mother laid in bed sick with a failing liver. He said that Chanute needed an instructor with my experience as a crew Chief. He would recommend me for the position, and for the Officer Training School at Lackland AFB located outside San Antonio, Texas.

If it weren't for the situation, I would be jumping up and down with a heart full of bliss. Kulabta had always been calm with a hint of a smile on her face. The unreasonable state, which controlled her, gave me chills deep inside. I had never seen a person as angry. She screamed at me. Her voice had a shrill of evil. Bewilderment covered me. I could not accept the circumstances or the doom I was suffering. It seemed like running away was my only option as a replacement for facing my problem.

My orders instructed me to fly to Travis Air Force Base (AFB) in California by the Air Force Military Air Transport Service. Once there, I was to go to the personnel office to receive new orders.

At the Travis Personnel Office my new orders directed me to report to Lackland Air Force Base for Officer Training School in fifteen days.

My former commander lifted me from the depths of despair to the height of vindication for hard work. The experience and satisfaction provided me with an enormous sense of ecstasy. I was happy that I could visit my parents as I was on leave for fourteen days.

A hop to Chanute AFB was about fifteen miles from my home. Heat surged throughout my body upon seeing my dad and mom meeting me as the C-47 landed. It was huge to see my mom, although she was tired the whole time I was home.

Fourteen days later found me thrilled to get a ride on a C-130 from Chanute AFB to Kelly Field, then by bus to Lackland AFB. The training was parallel to the training from my ROTC program at The University of Illinois (U of I). The main difference was the instruction in Fear-Fists-Feet (FFF) which was challengingly refreshing. It was comparable to the Muay Thai (Kick boxing) training I had received in Bangkok. Coaching was under the guidance of Grand Master Tuk who added throwing techniques.

Many of us appreciated the physical expansion. We practiced an additional two hours after supper each night and every weekend afternoon to perfect our technique. As a result of my Thai work outs, I was left filled with energy, and in fairly good shape.

I was pining for Kulabta. Her anguish confused me to the point of anger. Each word of the torment plagued me as it stomped through my thoughts. She screamed that I was cursed, and I would suffer loss and anguish in any loving relationship I attempted and enjoyed.

The problem was not going to prevent me from seeing Kulabta. I would go back to her in a split second. We had happy times and were planning a life together. Her family loved me. It was difficult to believe that she would be so uncompromising, and not even listen. She must know that I would not perform what she accused me of doing.

Doubt flooded my mind. It was as if time was frozen, and I could not move. My stomach was constricting. Breathing became labored. Repairing the damage became dominate in my heart. Not knowing what to say was puzzling.

My body shook in despair. The ability to talk avoided me. The lost was painful. I should have stayed and fought my demons.