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I wrote this story for my two daughters in hopes that they can see what influenced my life and why I became the person I am, making the choices I did. Events and people sometimes beyond our control help mold and shape our character into who and what we are. The road we travel is not always straight, but how we get to the destination is a reflection of our true values.I grew up in an occupied war-torn country until I was almost 7 years old. You grow up fast when your life and freedom are severely curtailed. We speak openly of freedom and use the word indiscriminately when what we consider constraints, by an orderly and democratic society, which impedes our ideas or values we would like to impose on others to satisfy selfish, immature and so-called intellectual behavior.My life was shaped by war and the eventual peace and freedom given me by the sacrifices of thousands of men and women who had no idea that I existed, but never-the-less gave their lives so that others like myself could experience freedom.I knew at an early age that I would someday try to give a little back to the country which rescued me and my family and millions of others like us. I served that country both in war and peace.
The Monk stone is a real stone laying along a trail above my village in Norway. The Monks in the late 1100-1200 AD used to carry stones from a quarry outside my village to a monastery they built there.My maternal grandfather was a farmer, fisherman, and miller who was also a great storyteller. It was he who first made us aware of the Monk stone. He would sit in his big rocking chair in our century old farm with several grandchildren sitting on the floor in front of him on cold snowy winter nights, spellbound waiting for the next words to come out of his mouth.Were all of the stories true? At the time when I was 5 or 6 years old sitting there listening, you bet they were true. -From the preface
In the early 1960's, not many U.S. soldiers had been wounded in Vietnam and those who had been wounded were sent to military hospitals near their homes. In 1964, the war in Vietnam was starting to heat-up and soldiers with severe wounds were sent to military hospitals that had the expertise to treat them. One of the premier hospitals was Walter Reed Army General Hospital located outside Washington, D.C. This was also the hospital of choice for presidents, former presidents and other officials of the government..In Ward #1, there was a section at the far end of the ward which became known as "The Pit", later on "The Snake Pit." In 1965, there were seven officers, captains, lieutenants and warrant officers assigned to the "Pit". Although other officers were assigned to "The Pit" their stay and personalities did not linger; i.e., seriousness of wounds or did not fit the "Pit" norm. The officers mentioned in this story remained together for at least one year or more, resulting in a close comradeship, helping each other when times were tough both physically and mentally.
POLITICS - INTRIGUE - MURDERPeter Compton stares into the mirror as he shaves his face. A daily ritual that starts with a half covered image of foamy white lather that is slowly revealed razor stroke by razor stroke. He sees himself through a steamy cloud and wipes the mirror off to get a closer look. Who will Peter Compton be today? A soldier, a husband, a lover, or a shadow in the darkness? What role will Peter Compton play as he travels through his life? As he continues to stare at the mirror, his mind slowly moves to his day ahead.
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