What do you think?

Question

I lost my second husband 5 years ago. I caught him in a photo i had taken at our son's house. That was chilling enough. I found my first husband on the internet and got an address for him. I gave him my numbers . The next day, i checked my messages and he sure enough left me 2 numbers. I was taking a break while out shopping, so I called one of them. His brother answered the phone and when I asked to talk to him , there was deadly silence for about 20 seconds. Then I heard him talking in a voice that was very sad. I am really sorry to have to be the one to tell you, he said, but....he died last night. Stunned, i asked him what had happened, he said he was suppose to met him to go out foe his birthday dinner and he found him on the floor, he was , unconsience and that was about 6 P.M. He was in a coma and died at 11:30 P.M. But I got the call from him at 9:16P.M. He said he had gotten my letter and had read it, but he couldn't have called me because he was brain dead then. ???

Answer 1

I do not know what to tell you about what happened other that i believe you, becuse of something that happened to me in the jungles of Viet Nam 37 years ago, in October of '69. I was in the Marines, Hotel 2/5 Weapons platoon. We were staged in Zone two, inland about 10 clicks, outside of some ruins and what had once been some sort of a french orpahnage of sorts - I think they called the place what sounded like " Lea Saint Sue Marie".

Anyway we arrived in the rain, and for the 6 weeks we were there it rained every day and night without let up. I was never so wet in my life - it was like living under-water - except you could breathe. We still sent out patrols, and OP's, (Observation Posts), and LP's, (Listeniung Post's), which every man-jack among us from the Captain on down knew was crazy, cause you could'nt hear nothing, and you could'nt see nothing for the rain, and of course the harder you tried - the more you thought maybe you did hear or see something, so you radio'd back to camp that maybe you did seen or heard something and maybe they better send out a patrol to check it out.

So back at base camp 8 to 12 guys who probbly were almost dried out got out of their hooches to put on soggy utilities and wet boots, and fall out for another dam patrol in the never ending rain, to chase after ghosts who probably were'nt there anyway, along trails that were booby trapped with live ordinace that they had placed, and the enemy had moved, and turned on them, or had simply reversed in place.

They also faced the very real threat that the boys in the LP or the OP had reall heard or seen something, - something meant to draw a patrol out, (your patrol), into a blind night ambush, you never knew, so each patrol had to be treated as the real thing, and each time you got ready each man went through his own routine to ready himself and his gear, nothing shiney , nothing that rattled or made noise, dog tags shoved in pocket to identify his body later. if. . .Extra loaded magazines, - lots of them. Two wound bandages ready to slap onwhere he could reach them with either hand. A morphine auto injecter that he'd talked the medic out of in his right hip patch pocket. K-bar heavy knife sharpened to a razor edge in it's sheath, taped upside down to the stap of his haversack light pack. Trusty Ak-47 Chinese made assult rifle, (a much better fighting weapon that the issued AR 17 assult rifle the Marine armory had issued him), and an old 45 cal arm issue colt automatic, probably more deaflu thrown than fired, accurate up to about 20 yards, but it had good knock down power with the home made dum-dums he had made out of the standard issue rounds.

Face, neck and hands grease painted, soft cover in lieu of helmut, and no cigarettes or matches, but 3 hersey bars and two pound cakes - unwrapped and re-wrapped in a dark green hand towel, (no paper waste left to mark their trail), and a full canteen of water, plus two hundred extra rounds for the M-60 gunner and an extra 8 rounds for the M-69 grenade launcher man, he was packing his own gear and amo, plus his share of the patrols two "heavy guns" ammo. Carrying extra ammo for Ward and Jericho was his pleasure - since in his opinion they we probably THE two best machine gunners and Grenade Launchermen in the Corps.

He had seen Ward field dis-assemble and re-assemble his M-60 - 7.62 machine gun in the dark in under a minute, and the next day, on a bet with a Newsweek stringer, he won a $100.00 bet when the reporter bet him that he could not hit a water buffalo grazing in a rice patty over 1000 yards away - free handed, - no tripod, and no bipod, just shoulder or under arm fired - in three shots! Ward said OK to the bet on 2 conditions. (1) He had to have a spotter. (2) When he killed the Bull, either the reporter, or Newsweek had to Replace the bull immedaitely with a full apology, in 2 days time - as witnessed by the whole Platoon present. The Reporter asked "Or What?", and Ward casually replied "Or I kill you with the 3rd live I round I'll still have in this shooter". THe reporter tured white for a moment, then laughrd at what he felt must obviously be a joke, and said "Deal".

I was the spotter. Oh did I mention that Ward's Original "MOS" - his (Military Occupational Service) assigmnet was snipe, and that he had served in that capacity for two tours before asking to be relieved of sniper duty, ans be transfere3d to Weapons platoon, where he had joined up with 0331 - Machine Guns?

THe first shot was High by 2 meters, and Wide right by the same. with adjustments for wind, drift, and drop, the second shot droped the bull with a perfect lung shot. Ward turned slightly to the news reporter and asked hium if he'd like the third round as a souvenir, and when the reporter said yes Ward said he would give it to him at the Ceremoney when the reporter presented the village & farmenr with a new water bull in two days.

Anyway that night two patrols we dispatched. I lead Alfa, and Bravo was lead by a friend of mine from a smaller town south of Atlanta, GA, nicknamed "Cat man" because of the way he moved. Catman was in "The real world know as Chet Caruthers, Varsity Football and Baseball star, Catman was all dark chocalate and sweet sex, a good looking man at 6'-4' and 220 #, he was quick with a grin, and on his feet, he liked people, and people liked him. He was bright, intuitive, and on heck of a soldier, his men adored him, he was fearless, but no fool, he always put the welfare of his men first, and was very cautious about putting them or anyone in harms way. He believed in what we were doing, and hated anyone who did not support the president or the troops in the fight for the struggle for freedom of the South Viet Namese People. I had grow to be "tight" with Catman over the last 6 months - due mostly to the fact that I had intorduced him to the vietnamese girl who he was about to marry in December.

Our Patrols that night were going to work in tandom. Catman would be the primary, and I would be his flanker. Our plan was simple it was the LP who had called in the threat. The LP is almost always out farther than the OP, except for rocky mountainous terrain when we hold the high ground and have a commanding position, with limited approaches, and commanding fields of fire. IN this case the LP was out 2 clicks, and the OP was out short, only 1 click - due to the heavy monsoon rains. Our perimeter guard was much heavier, but the captain felt our perimeter was safer this way, and less lives were at risk.

Our orders were clear enough. I would leave the wire at 1700 through the east gate taking the trail that paralleled the road leading to the Ocean, and the Main trunk Higheway leading South to Saigon. We felt sure we would be watched as we entered the jungle in the evening twiilight as the rain set in for the night. After 1/2 hour we would swing left and circle the base camp and head west for the LP which was located about 2 clicks, (two thousand yards), beyond the OP. At 1830 hours Catman's Team Bravo would also leave by the east gate and take the east road but only for about 300 yards and then cut off of the road to the right, and encircle the camp on the right and head east for the OP. (Again, we would be counting on this manuver being watched) Catman would be taking his patrol to the OP, as we were already flanking the OP by about 250 yards and following an old animal trail that would eventually lead up to the LP from the base camp side of the listening post. At a preset "call in " time the LP would cal in to the base camp and by "Keying" the m ike on their radio in a specific sequence of "clicks" they could transmit :all clear or the detection or presence of hostiles, direction of threat, number of unfriendlies, - - etc. This was not morse code - which was a universal language - but a code that changed weekly, and sometimes more frequently. These checking times were also times when base camp could communicate changes to the LP, such as come in now, or - we are snding out your replacements, - etc. A pre-set schedule was absolutely necessary since the LP was listening for enemy activity, and the enemy was listening for us as they silently advanced and clicks on a radio are just as distinct as voices in the jungle.

My orders were to shut down the LP, and retrive the two marines manning it, bobby trap the stand, and head back to the OP to hook up with CatMan who was bringing out replacements to the OP. We would then patrol further north, and be back inside the wire by 3:30 am.

By 10:30 PM my 8 man patrol had reached the LP, and something was definately wrong, the two marines were alright but definately shaken. Both were sure they had been "probed several times in the past 3 hours, and they both sensed the presence of a large opposing force out there in the rain, just beyond their vision. By now we all felt it to, sinister and deadly. THe LP was already stocked with several Claymore Mines, and an additonal three cases of AP grenades, I decided we were done with this LP and we rigged it to blow. We set up the claymores all around the front of the LP 17 ECHO, and connected the grendaes in a daisy chain to the mines about 50 yards out behind likely hiding places and shelters where I thought I would take refuge If I were going to slay seige to the LP.Then I took out my trust old .45 and set it as the trigger and laid it about 3 feet away from the rear of the exit/entrance of the LP hooch facing our base camp, barrel plugged in the mud, apparently dropped in our haste to abandon the LP, our nerves shot from all the probes during the night.

About Midnight with the trigger set we left for our Ralley point - the OP. We had made about 500 yards, approximately 1/2 of the way back to the OP when all heck broke loose, and we hit the deck. Behind us the LP had detonated in aseries of tremendous explosions, that despite the heavy down pour of rain, still sounded like explosions in the same room, then there was a hail of dunfire and some rocket fire immediately foullowing the exposions, followed by more explosions and still more automatic fire. Infact the explosions and rifle fire picked up so much that I could have sworn it was before us as well, - at the OP. Then all was errily quiet, and as we arose from our makeshift fighting holes, CatMan materialized out of the shadows with that same big grin on his face that he always had on- no matter what was going on around him. "Hey Sarge! What you doin' down there? I know you ain't sleepin', and there ain't no lady down there wit' you, - jest mud, - you afraid of the noise?" "Well doan you all worry none - the CatMan here to takes you all home now. So Come ON! Get Up! We Gots to Hurry they be comming they will! Let's go man!

And so we went, tired, wet , dirty, we followed CatMan in a zig-zag route back thru the wire, and all the time, all around us we could hear the shouts of the enemy searching for us in the rain, yelling orders back and forth, occasionally firing short bursts into the darkness, you could hear and feel their rage and frustration.
At just befor 2:00 am we tumbled back inside the wire after being challenge by out sentries, everyone inside the compund now on alert, having heard the firefight, and the 3rd patrol having gone out and already retuned with the dead from the OP. I was called to make my report immediately. I entered the XO's hooch for the de-breifing, and was suprised to see the Old man there. I saluted, and asked for permission to sit, (I would have like to laydown - I was dead tired, someone handed me a cup of coffee, and I just sat there waiting for CatMan to roll in so we could both get de-briefed, thencheck on our men, and then have a beer and sack out. The XO asked me to report, and I asked if he did not want to wait for Sgt, Caruthers too, so that we could be debriefed at the sametime - which was'nt necessarily SOP, but we usually did it that way in the bush to save time, and make sure the record reflected an "accurate" accounting of what actually happened.

The XO looked at the CO who looked at me dead pan, who then stated more than asked "You do not know then?" Know what"

Sgt Caruthers was killed in action during the firefight at the OP last night"
"WHAT!" "WHEN!"
"Sgt. Chester "Chet" Caruthers was killed in action by enemy fire this morning at Obervation Post Victor Seven,approximatly one kilometer due west of Base Camp Kilo 31, Zone 2, Republic of South Viet Nam, at approximately 12:30 am, October 21st, 1969."
'That's not possible. That's just not possible"
"And why is that Sgt. Rall"
"Because at approximately 12:30 am today he found me and my team between LP-17 ECHO and OP Victor 7, and he lead me and the rest of my team out of the bush, thru the rain and the darkness in a jungle full of the enemy that was searching for us - almost shoulder to shoulder, and yet somehow he got us all back through the wire by 2:00 am - to a man. But don't take my word for it ask the sentries, ask by squad. Don't tell them he's dead if they don't already know' just ask them who grought us in.

Of the 12 sentries questioned only 2 knew catman was dead when we crossed the wire, and they were off duty when he lead us back thru the wire. Only two of the other sentries saw Cat Man lead us thru the wire on their shift , (from midnite to 4:00am on the west perimeter). THe others were on other perimeters, and did not notice anyone come through the wire.

Every man in my squad, plus the two men from the LP that we brought back swear it was Cat Man who brought us in. The XO and CO have no reason to disbelieve us, (Turns out the XO's "people" are "travelers" from eastern europe, and he saw nothing strange at all about this whole business, he sees it only as one good friend doing one last favor to another friend.

The incident was never reported as it occured, to my knowledge.

I was able to make arrangements for My Lin and the family to emigrate to the United states in 1971 through Thailand on forged documents. They are leagalized citizens today, My Lin was married in 1978 to a Marine from Camp Pendelton, and Last I heard they have 4 children and are living in Orange County, He has a Landscaping Business,

I will never forget CatMans Last Act of Heroism. I wrote his mother several times after his deather, and promised to come to see her when I returened to the world. I went to see his mother and step father and sister in Georga when I got out of the Service in 1972. She was gracious and kind and I could see that she was still mouring the death of her son, the sister had grieved, and appeared to have gone on with her life, and said she could not bear to go through that all again, she asked me to be kind to mher mother and not upset her, and left after coffee. I never saw her again. The step father had not known Chet, but admired him, because of the great love Arletta chets mother carried for him, he was very polite and somewhat distant, and told me he really did not know what to do or say, I told him I was sorry , and that I didn't either, but that I felt I owed it to Mrs. Caruthgers to stay on and give her what little peace I could, and he said that would be best.

Ms Arletta and I spoke of Carl every day , all day long for two straight weeks, I think I met all his friends and relatives, - Ms Arletta saw to that for everry evening for the two weeks that I was there she had arranged to have an Open House in the Basement of the Deacons Baptist Church with cookies, coffee, and red kool-aide. I was mystified that this tribute to this special young man would garner such attention for so long, but his passing was part of the social fabric of their society and a way of renewing fellowships, mending fences and old wounds, and a reminder in general of our own short time here on earth, so these gatherings were not somber mornful affars, they were celebrations of life..

So Yes I believe you, and isn't it incredible that it did? Maybe you have a "Gift" or maybe this was just a one-time thing. which ever it was - it was special, and you are unique to have experienced it. MMy advice, do not shun this gift if it happens again, see where it goes. If it frightens you, talk to your religious leader; or a psychiatrist. But I do not think that this expeince is a threat, and I do not think you are crazy. Be who you are, be happy in your life, and move ahead

I'm pullin for you.

Answer 2

Sounds like your ex is dogging, (avoiding you). If he died, ask when the funeral is, where he is going to be buried, what funeral home he is at. Then call them and check it out. The local police should also have a report. The local morgue, or ambulance would have picked him up. It is not like his brother would have dragged him out to car, stuffec him in, and taken him to the morgue.

You can also check him out by social security number, to see if he is dead. All information is listed at the Social Scurvily Home Website.
Maybe he came into some money, or has a new girlfriend. I would suspect that there is something up.

Answer 3

oh my god. hum really that is crazy but there are ways and wonders that happen and i believe that he wanted to talk to you one last time before he truly left. and i am so sorry! i hope you are okay. i wish i could tell you the reason but i do not know. i really just wanted to tell you that i am sorry for your loss

Answer 4

Most of you "people" have obviously never seen the Mexican girls that live in Mexico dont be jealous and thumbs me down but those girls are much hotter than the girls from USA

Answer 5

very very sad

probably your letter didn't kill him.

try to get some closure on that and forgive yourself for whatever you did or didn't do.

Answer 6

sound fishy to me, but you can not blame yourself yet

Answer 7

eeeeerrrrrriiiiiieeeeeee!!!!!!