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but were afraid to ask: 
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Pretty Please - add it to our Events forum(s) and add to the calendar! >> 
These largely unsung heroes, too.
This is from a very dear friend, an Army nurse, who has remained in touch with me since those days in Viet Nam.
Jeff
These Boots Are made for Walkin’
________________________________________
Nancy Sinatras' hit song played by the Armed Forces Radio kept this nurse awake on quiet nights during our twelve hour duty shifts. Nancy donned bright white knee high boots while entertaining troops serving in Vietnam. We girl soldiers could long for such fancy duds as they were certainly more feminine than the standard combat boots issued at boot training for the Army Nurse Corps.
Spit shinning one's boots the "Army Way" took dedication to the task. First, you needed a can of Kiwi shoe polish, a soft cloth, a cigarette lighter, and a good measure of time and elbow grease. I went to the PX to purchase a good cigarette lighter then would sit on the floor to begin the nightly ritual. First dip the cloth into the shoe polish lid (filled with water) I learned later that real soldiers used spit! Being a newbie I was not acclimated to the real world of soldering, so the water in the lid suited me just fine. Next scoop up a glob of black polish and spread this over the boots as you would spread butter on toast, then using the cigarette lighter, burn the polish into the boot. Set the boots aside and let them dry awhile, then buff them to a high gloss. Now they are reflecting light and standing tall, ready for inspection!
The only time I recall my boots did not pass muster was when we dried them in our oven. We lady soldiers trampled in the rain and mud slides located in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, known as "Camp Bullis" for those who endured basic training in south Texas. Our oven was the perfect answer to the necessity for dry boots come morning.
When I arrived in Vietnam, my boots indeed were made for walking, many times for running, as I walked from one wounded soldier to another or would run out to the chopper to assess their wounds. My boots frantically worked the suction apparatus during a scary night ride on a gunship "Slick" helicopter transporting a soldier with a head wound to a larger hospital.
My boots took me all over Vietnam, hitchhiking to Army Hospitals in the Mekong Delta south of Saigon to waaaay up north around Quang Tri near the DMZ. My boots explored tribal Montangard villages in the mountains of Vietnam and ended up spending a long memorable night in Vietnam's Central Highlands, guarded by America's finest, fighting soldiers from the sky, “The Green Berets.”
And how my boots made for walkin' loved to dance! Be it tapping my toes to Dusty Springfield's "Son of a Preacher Man" played every morning at 0600, waking my patients from a nights restless sleep, as Adrian Cronauer screeched, "Goooood Morning Vee Ettt NAM!" or dancing with guy friends to the music of bad Filipino bands! Please!! If I ever hear "Under the Boardwalk”, again...it will be too soon!
My walking boots made many trips to Tuy Hoa Air Base where I spent off duty time with friends in the 309th and the 188th Fighter Squadrons. Trying to be incognito as a girl amongst men, I wore my fatigues and combat boots while enjoying the company of friends. As the war took its toll, my boots made more than a few sad long walks to tell combat friends a last goodbye.
In the weariness of living and loving in a combat zone, my walking boots became kneeling boots in our hospital makeshift chapel where I knelt in prayer searching for a measure of hope for Americans and Vietnamese.
In the attic the other day, I came across the only part of my uniform that still fits. I sat down and reminisced over the miles these old boots carried me. Looking at the tattered leather and wore soles...I knew they spoke of a history which songs are inept to describe.
This is from a very dear friend, an Army nurse, who has remained in touch with me since those days in Viet Nam.
Jeff
These Boots Are made for Walkin’
________________________________________
Nancy Sinatras' hit song played by the Armed Forces Radio kept this nurse awake on quiet nights during our twelve hour duty shifts. Nancy donned bright white knee high boots while entertaining troops serving in Vietnam. We girl soldiers could long for such fancy duds as they were certainly more feminine than the standard combat boots issued at boot training for the Army Nurse Corps.
Spit shinning one's boots the "Army Way" took dedication to the task. First, you needed a can of Kiwi shoe polish, a soft cloth, a cigarette lighter, and a good measure of time and elbow grease. I went to the PX to purchase a good cigarette lighter then would sit on the floor to begin the nightly ritual. First dip the cloth into the shoe polish lid (filled with water) I learned later that real soldiers used spit! Being a newbie I was not acclimated to the real world of soldering, so the water in the lid suited me just fine. Next scoop up a glob of black polish and spread this over the boots as you would spread butter on toast, then using the cigarette lighter, burn the polish into the boot. Set the boots aside and let them dry awhile, then buff them to a high gloss. Now they are reflecting light and standing tall, ready for inspection!
The only time I recall my boots did not pass muster was when we dried them in our oven. We lady soldiers trampled in the rain and mud slides located in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, known as "Camp Bullis" for those who endured basic training in south Texas. Our oven was the perfect answer to the necessity for dry boots come morning.
When I arrived in Vietnam, my boots indeed were made for walking, many times for running, as I walked from one wounded soldier to another or would run out to the chopper to assess their wounds. My boots frantically worked the suction apparatus during a scary night ride on a gunship "Slick" helicopter transporting a soldier with a head wound to a larger hospital.
My boots took me all over Vietnam, hitchhiking to Army Hospitals in the Mekong Delta south of Saigon to waaaay up north around Quang Tri near the DMZ. My boots explored tribal Montangard villages in the mountains of Vietnam and ended up spending a long memorable night in Vietnam's Central Highlands, guarded by America's finest, fighting soldiers from the sky, “The Green Berets.”
And how my boots made for walkin' loved to dance! Be it tapping my toes to Dusty Springfield's "Son of a Preacher Man" played every morning at 0600, waking my patients from a nights restless sleep, as Adrian Cronauer screeched, "Goooood Morning Vee Ettt NAM!" or dancing with guy friends to the music of bad Filipino bands! Please!! If I ever hear "Under the Boardwalk”, again...it will be too soon!
My walking boots made many trips to Tuy Hoa Air Base where I spent off duty time with friends in the 309th and the 188th Fighter Squadrons. Trying to be incognito as a girl amongst men, I wore my fatigues and combat boots while enjoying the company of friends. As the war took its toll, my boots made more than a few sad long walks to tell combat friends a last goodbye.
In the weariness of living and loving in a combat zone, my walking boots became kneeling boots in our hospital makeshift chapel where I knelt in prayer searching for a measure of hope for Americans and Vietnamese.
In the attic the other day, I came across the only part of my uniform that still fits. I sat down and reminisced over the miles these old boots carried me. Looking at the tattered leather and wore soles...I knew they spoke of a history which songs are inept to describe.
