The True Story of a U.S. Soldier

Have you ever wondered what it was really like being drafted to fight in a war? Do you fully comprehend the sacrifices made by those who served as soldiers in wars past? Would you like to hear the true story of one of those soldiers?

Vietnam Diary: A Memoir for my Posterity by Lanny H. Starr is an autobiographical account told by the author. He was drafted into the Vietnam War and served a two-year tour of duty as an Army Sergeant. Following are a few reviews of the book:

"A very human and insightful tour of duty of a true patriot. Thank you Mr. Starr for serving our great country honorably in Vietnam, and sharing your story with us. I highly recommend this memoir, and sincerely hope that you, your family and fellow veterans are proud of their service."

"One of the most interesting books that I read...A must read. I felt like I was there. Thank you for your service."

"Great read really puts things about this time in our history in perspective. Glad to hear he got home OK."

"Very intense reading and you can feel how much this Nov cares about his men.glade you made it back home."

"This book was hard to put down because my mind kept coming back to the same staggering understanding: This isn't fiction; these things actually happened!"

Available in e-book or paperback at Amazon.com

Vietnam Diary

Hey! I have an incredible treat for you!

So, my dad has been retired for a while, and with all his free time he decided to jot down personal memories about his experiences serving a tour in the Vietnam War. He was drafted into the U.S. Army, along with about 650,000 other men at the time. It certainly was not what he or his parents or his fiancee anticipated. 

My dad finished his story and then, to our surprise, he handed out copies to my mom, my siblings, and me. I read his story from beginning to end, engrossed the entire time. Oh man! It was like watching a war movie on the big screen, only this was real! This was my father's actual, true life experiences! I learned a lot, and felt a lot, reading this personal diary.

Reporting back to my father, I told him that he seriously needed to take these pages and make them into a book. After a little coaxing, he agreed to let me edit the writing, add a few photos from his tour in Vietnam, and have the entirety printed off in paperback form. BUT, it was only to be handed out to close family and friends. 

"Oh come on, Dad. This story would benefit so many people. You really should publish it."

                                     "I don't know."

"Seriously, Dad, it's an eye-opening account. Tons of people would love to read it."

                                     "Well...I'll think about it."

So he thought about it.  And guess what! After handling the final product and browsing through it again, my dad actually agreed to publish his book! This is exciting news! Believe me, you're going to want to read it. Here's the synopsis from the back cover:

"Greetings from the President."
I had just been drafted into the U.S. Army. It was the last thing I expected, and it was certainly not what my parents or fiancee wanted to hear. Enclosed in these pages are my personal experiences from a tour served in Vietnam during the war. This book is written in my own words, a diary for my family and posterity. I hope this recounting will help them comprehend the great sacrifices made by brave soldiers in wartime, sacrifices that protect freedoms we tend to take for granted. This is my true story."

You can get a copy of my dad's book on Amazon.com or Lulu.com in either paperback or e-book form. Don't miss out on this! If you are curious at all about what it was like fighting in the Vietnam war, or if you wonder about the incredible sacrifices made by brave soldiers in defense of our freedoms, or if you like memoirs and reality stories--get this book. Yes, that's my dad on the cover. Sergeant Starr.

Buy now at

Amazon.com

Bad Day

Imagine the following true incident foreshadowing every stretch of my waking hours, and you'll understand exactly what sort of day I've had....

After dealing with an unpleasant phone call interrupted by an inconvenient surprise visit, I left the house to go run a necessary errand.  Slipping into the front seat of my car, I immediately realized some irritated, buzzing insect had entered with me.  I imagined an angry wasp.  Then I panicked, noticing the thing was attached to my hair and struggling to break free.  Shoving open the car door, I jumped onto my feet while vigorously shaking my hair, hoping the wasp would fly free and leave me unharmed.  Imagine the immense relief I felt when a fly (not a wasp) escaped my tangled curls!  It lasted for a split second—until the stupid fly flew up my nose.  No amount of gagging could save him.

Some days you wonder why you even bothered to venture out the front door.  

Never Say Never

Life is a fairytale.

At least that's the way I see it. Each day we create and compile chapters—some short and simple, some extensive and involved, either humorous or dramatic or sweet or eerie or heartbreaking—all adding to our very own book of tales. Daily occurrences have the capacity to be retold in story form. And most of them, I have found, are naturally oozing with morals.

Take the other day for example...

It was a morning like any other, neither brightly sunny nor gray and stormy but somewhere dull and in between. Regardless of the weather, I was hoping for the day to prove momentous on a personal level. For, you see, I was down to writing the very last chapter of my latest book. Being so near my goal, I felt eager to actually complete the ending. I foresaw it as a huge personal accomplishment, one I could not wait to check off my mental list of achievements.

However, as I often tell my three boys, "responsibilities come first." And so I set out to my part-time day job, antsy and bubbling on the inside in anticipation of a free afternoon of writing.

This would be the day I finished writing a book! That is not an easy task, people.

I drove my youngest son to school and dropped him off with a kiss and an "I love you." Then I drove to the little ma-and-pa shop where I work. Though I tried and tried to avoid the clock, my eyes flickered in its direction nearly every minute. My job is not intellectually engaging to begin with, not like the science of creating new worlds or anything, so time naturally ambled along. I managed to keep my anxiousness contained even though I swear time was dragging its feet on purpose. 

I answered phone calls as cordially as possible.

I took things apart.

I put things back together.

I tormented the gentlemen who work with me.

And then... finally... the clock struck 12:00! (No not midnight. This isn't Cinderella's story.)

Out the front door I disappeared in a blur. I rushed to my car and turned the key in the ignition, all fired up anticipating my completion of those final crowning paragraphs that would complete my latest book! My heart pounded in my chest, overly anxious for two reasons. First, this was going to be my day of great accomplishment. Second, though I fancy myself to be a good person, I do believe that... well, how shall I put this?

I'm cursed.

Don't laugh.

Trust me.

There are plenty of past extraordinary disappointments in my life to prove it, but I will wait for another time to compose that list. For now, suffice it to say that driving the short distance from work to home while aware of those past frustrations was enough to have me concerned about what could possibly go wrong between point A and point B.

So, being wary, I kept to the speed limit and signaled at every turn, managing not to get pulled over by a traffic cop.

I was an observant, defensive, careful driver, avoiding a car wreck on the way.

I didn't text or call on my cell phone while driving. (Not that I ever do. Okay, next to never.)

I made it down the neighborhood street, onto the highway, through the busy four-way stop, and was cruising at the appropriate speed while keeping an eye out for the occasional deer, skunk, dog, cat, raccoon, varmint, or vampire that occasionally crosses the road nearing our home—fairly common occurrences.

Yes, you heard me; I was nearing home without a single stroke of bad luck!

It was about a hundred yards from my house, the length of a football field, where my heart plummeted to the very bottom of my shoes. Pressing a foot on the brake to bring the car to a stop, I laughed. Not a humorous laugh either. I laughed out loud with incredulity—a crazed cackle to keep from crying.

Like I said—I'm cursed.

No, this is not Dorothy and Toto's story, but like their tale, sitting in the very middle of the road and across both lanes as well as blocking off the only drivable access to my street was... a house. Yes, you heard me right, an actual wretched house.

A HOUSE!

For criminy's sake, who puts an entire house in the middle of a road? And without leaving any room to get around it? Of all the days, times, and places, barring the one and only path that I needed! All I wanted was to get home to my precious laptop and type out those last few paragraphs. That's all I asked! Was that so much? Fate had to put an ENTIRE HOUSE in my way? Really?

I'm cursed. Told you so.

So, I rolled down the window as Mr. Police Officer approached.

"Sorry, ma'am, but you'll have to take the road up the hill to get around."

"But I don't want to get around. I want to turn that corner right there and get to my house."

"Oh."

(Yeah, duh 'oh'.)

"Well, ma'am, I'm sorry, but there's no way around the, um..."

"the house," I assisted in a grumble.

"Yeah."

"So... how do you suggest I get home?"

"You'll have to wait, I guess."

"For how long?"

"The men tell me it'll be two to four hours before they get it moved."

(This is where I roll my eyes and scream silently in my head.)

"Officer, do you realize there will be school buses headed down this road in less than three hours? How are my kids supposed to get home?"

"Huh. I hadn't thought about that. I don't know. Maybe we'll have to escort them to their homes." (Yes, he really said that. And I'm thinking, how are you going to escort them around THE HOUSE?)

Accepting the absolutely uncanny reality of things, I drew in a deep breath and asked, "Is it okay if I pull over to the side of the street here and wait?"

"Oh no, ma'am. We can't have cars blocking the road."

(Seriously?)

MORAL OF THE STORY: Be adaptable. Be patient. Don't ever think it is a sure thing, and vice versa, don't ever think it is impossible. Because life can put a house in the middle of your road if it wants to. Never say never.

This wasn't the actual house (in a state of bewilderment, I failed to take a picture)

but my situation appeared exactly the same.