Dear Friends,
As the years continue to roll
by, I notice that my mental faculties have begun to diminish. Now, whether this deterioration is the result
of sipping raki (Cretan moonshine) on
Crete, sipping Southern Comfort in Tennessee, sipping Tennessee moonshine at my
home in Tennessee, or just plain
ole old age, I
guess I’ll never know. And,
perhaps it is best that I never know, otherwise I might attempt to
alter my way of life and inadvertently destroy a beautiful lifestyle! Anyway, as I attempt to recall and share
memories of my distant past, some details have become a little fuzzy...sort of
like when you have indulged in a bit too much of the aforementioned
beverages! Keeping that in mind, I am
going to try to recall and present, as accurately as I possibly can, an incident which
occurred many years ago when I was stationed on Crete. None of the names have been changed to
protect the innocent...Hell, none of us were innocent!
I believe it was in the spring or maybe the
summer of 1969 that several of us airmen assigned to Charlie Flight with the
6931st Security Group on Crete, had decided to take a plane into Athens and visit the
Acropolis and the Parthenon, the ancient Agora, and the archaeological museum
over our four day break.
I believe there were four of
us...perhaps five or as many as six, who had flown into Athens together. Even
though I don’t remember who all was in our party, I do recall a rather tall,
lanky fellow from the Deep South being with us. He was from either rural southern Alabama, rural southern Georgia or
somewhere in Mississippi (all of Mississippi is rural) .
After checking into our hotel, we decided the following morning after having had
our continental breakfast, to visit the Acropolis and Parthenon, the
ancient Agora, and the archaeological museum.
After forty-plus years, I don’t recall the order in which we visited
these sites, and it most likely doesn’t make any difference. Anyway, when we got to the archaeological
museum, we were all walking down a rather long corridor that was lined with
wonderfully preserved statutes...statutes of warriors, of royalty, of gods and
goddesses and wannabe deities, of political figures, of mythological heroes and
beasts, and of beautiful maidens and handsome young men in their prime. We paused at each one, eyeing them closely
and intently as if pretending to know something about ancient art, sculpture, Greek
statues and historical figures. As we
continued to move along the corridor, we came upon one statue from its left
rear quadrant. The figure had long, wavy
hair flowing down the back, feminine curves, flaring hips, and a cloth that had
been allowed to slide from the body, down past the round but firm buttocks and
finally coming to rest elegantly draped below the knees and around the lower legs and ankles. The statue appeared to be that of a young
Greek maiden, perhaps as she was about to step into a bathing pool or maybe as she
was preparing to meet her lover. As we
came alongside the left side of the figure, we could see the breasts were full
and firm, but not unrealistic. Then we
came round to face the full frontal figure.
There was a small crowd of other tourists gathered before this statue,
discreetly pointing and quietly whispering among themselves. The collective gaze of our little group of
airmen glided from the top of the head, down the swanlike neck, past those beautiful
full breasts, beyond the navel, down to the soft roundness of the lower belly
and finally coming to rest upon the parting secrets of the Universe. WHAT THE HELL!!!! At that point we came to the sudden and
shocking realization that the upper half of this statue was that of a woman,
while the lower portion was that of a man!
We stood there for a few seconds in a tense and uncomfortable, shocked
stillness. Then this uneasy truce
between silence and sound was broken by the boy from the Deep South who, with
mouth agape and lacking even the slightest semblance of self-control, loudly
proclaimed, “Gawwwwd dayummmm! (God damn!) Venus
with a penis!” Heads suddenly turned in
his direction to see who had broken this sanctum of silence. Now, I’m sure that ALL of us at one time or
another have been in a gathering such as a wedding or funeral or in Church,
when it would have been most inappropriate to laugh out loud, and this was one
of those times. However, someone started
to snicker, followed by a few nervous giggles of others, then a simultaneous, concerted
outburst of uncontrollable laughter from the whole of the group standing in
front of the statue. If the statue could
have been animated, surely it would have drawn the cloth up from around its
ankles and stormed off in humiliation and indignation! Now, I don’t fault the boy from the Deep South
from blurting out; he was merely expressing aloud what all the rest of us
were feeling inside. For weeks and even
months afterwards, when I would be alone and think back on what had
transpired at the archaeological museum in Athens, I could not help but burst
out laughing. And, I am quite certain if
anyone could have seen me laughing out loud while completely alone, they would
have thought I had lost complete control of my senses! Even today, forty-six years afterwards, when
thinking about those events at the museum, or when I see a photo or drawing of
“Venus de Milo”, I will start to chuckle.
But at my age, it no longer matters if others think that I have a few
screws loose...because I am now at an age whereas I am entitled to have as many
screws loose as I want, and furthermore, I don’t care!!! “Venus with a penis!”...got to be the
shortest and most profound poem I’ve ever heard!!!
Your Friend and Fellow “Silent
Warrior”,
Bob Armistead
