"Everytime I have the privilege          to sing another song...            I think about it."      Vietnam: February, 1969. We had just arrived in country, green as the fatigues we were wearing, and scared to death. We all have stories to tell, but in most cases, we'd rather not. There is one I'd like to share with you. It's about a young man I can remember only as 'Red.'      Red and I met in Cu Chi, home of the 25th Inf. Div., while waiting for orders to our respective units. We were there about a month, mostly ridin' shotgun on supply convoys. We came to know one another fairly well during that time. Being the 'new kids on the block,' we had all things common; fear, anxiety, and all the above. Together day and night, we shared a lot about ourselves and our roots. Mostly, we talked about the girl we left behind. If you've been there you know what I'm talking about.      Red was not well educated. Back then you didn't have to be to serve in the military. The draft was not biased. His reading and writing ability was limited to the point that I had to do it for him. I shouldn't say I had to... it was my pleasure. He would tell me what to write and I would write it. The letters to the folks were okay, but those to his girl friend, well... you get the picture. It was a little awkward for me. It didn't seem to bother him, but, then again he wasn't thinking about me. His mind and his heart was in Alabama. He'd say it, I'd write. He'd laugh, I'd laugh. He'd cry...      It wasn't long before we received our orders to join our unit. Wouldn't you know, we both went to the same place. You might say we moved up in the world... literally. We were sent to an infantry company providing perimeter protection for an engineering unit thirty-six hundred feet high on top of a mountain called Nui Ba Dien, or as it was more commonly called, 'Black Virgin' mountain. It was common knowledge to all that the entire mountain was infested with NVA and VC. The enemy's objective was to keep communications from being built. You know ours... and so it goes.      The perimeter was set with about 12 to 16 bunkers; one squad per bunker, 3, 4, squads per platoon, 3, 4, platoons. I can't really recall. It's been awhile. Anyway, the bunkers were about 30 to 35 yards apart. Each squad guarded to the left and to the right of their respective bunker for possible infiltration from the enemy, especially at night. It got very hot during the day and downright chilly after dark, with a lot of moisture. After a few months of that I was ready for the flatlands, a welcomed sight for a mountain man. But, that's another story... not here, not now, maybe never.      Red and I were air lifted up by chopper; the only means of transportation to and from the top. One way in... one way out. They brought all your supplies to you periodically, mail included, usually about once a week. The guys in each respective platoon would take turns going down to the flatlands. You might get to go once a month for an overnight stay. It was better than nothing. It gave you a chance to go to the PX, EM club, or maybe just a hot shower, clean bed, and a decent nights sleep without pulling guard in the middle of the night. Anyway, we landed and reported to the 1st. Sgt. immediately. Actually, he was there to greet us. Replacements were a welcomed sight. He looked at us as we stood side by side and matter-of-factly said, "You go here and you go there." That was it. Case closed. Could have went the other way. Read on... you'll understand what I just said.      Red and I were sent to different platoons, almost a 180 across the top of the mount from one another. We got pretty busy right off the bat and didn't see much of each other at first except chow time. As time rocked along we saw more of one another during free time. What do you think we did? That's right; he'd say it, I'd write it. He'd laugh, I'd laugh. He'd cry... Red couldn't talk about his girl without crying. I'm not much of a writer, but I know one thing, I didn't write the words he was telling me to with anything near the emotion he was saying them. I hope she got the message: he loves you baby.      It's getting a little hard for me to write this any further...      I think it was somewhere in July... I don't really remember. We got hit one night by a small group of VC. My buddy Bob and I were the only ones on our bunker, we were that short of help. I think maybe one of our squad members might have been down on the flatlands that night, and another was in the mess hall. He was a cook and it was the wee hours of the morning. He was , along with the other cooks, preparing breakfast. So, it was just me and Bob. But , we didn't think it to be any different than any other night. It had been quite awhile since Charlie had hit the mountain. Not since we'd been there anyway. This night was different. You could feel it. I can't explain it... you just knew.      I was up on top pulling my guard while Bob was trying to get some sleep, when all hell broke loose. The horn rang. It was LT. saying get everybody up, we're getting hit. I ran down inside and told everybody, Bob, to get on top. I manned the M60 machine gun while Bob scanned the area around our bunker. The sky, what you could see of it, was lit up like the 4th of July. You see, being so high up, you were in the clouds at times. Especially when it stormed. Lightning would set off trip flares and claymores like firecrackers in a barbecue pit. All you could hear was a lot of yelling surrounded by fire; M16s, 60s, fraggs, and all the above. Then, the chilling distinctive sound of an AK47. Once you've heard it... you'll never forget it. Suddenly, after about 15 or 20 minutes... an eerie dead calm. The horn rang. LT. again (platoon leader) wanting a sit. rep. (situation report). We told him all was well on our end. From the back of us and down in the vicinity of 3rd platoon, we could hear cries for help. We were told to stand down while others answered their call. It would be dawn before we could leave our bunker and survey the damage Charlie had done.      There was a huge gap between 2nd and 3rd platoons. Charlie had taken out the last bunker of 2nd platoon with an RPG, (rocket propelled grenade) killing one and infiltrated to the top where the engineers were bunked, leaving two dead and one wounded. Bob was the first to go while I watched the area we were responsible for. He came back and told me what had happened and that we had also lost a member of the 3rd platoon. He said, when the bunker in 2nd platoon that had been taken out did not respond to a sit. rep., 3rd platoon sent a man over to check it out and he was killed. I asked him who... he didn't know.      As the sun began to peek through the overcast sky, I made my way up and over to where Bob said he lay. All I could think of was Red. Red was in the 3rd platoon. It wasn't uncommon for a squad to have the new guy put himself out 'till he had earned their respect. I thought about a lot of things, but especially... don't let it be Red.      As I drew near to the body, all I could see was a grayish, almost paper white corpse with a red circle on his forehead. When I knelt to see...      When I came home from Nam and held my wife, I thought about it. When I held each of my three children in my arms, I thought about it. When I hold my grandchildren, I think about it. Everytime I have the privilege to sing another song... I think about it. I think about that day nearly 40 years ago, when Red and I stood before the 1st. Sgt. and he said, "You go here, and you go there." Do I have to explain?      I think about Red a lot since then. Mostly I think about a man that the world will never know. A red headed hillbilly from Alabama who could barely read and write, but had enough pride, courage, and love in his six foot lanky frame to win that war and save a multitude of lives if only he could have had the chance. He'd say it, I'd write it. He'd laugh, I'd laugh. He died... I cried.

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From the message board...                                      Monte, your music is so special to me. I enjoy your music and it touches my heart and soul. It's been an inspiration and has lifted me so many times when I let life start to bring me down. God has given you a blessing that has been able to bless so many of us in return. Thanks so much! Take care and God bless.  B.A., West Virginia The Bible says, " Do not remove the ancient landmark which your fathers have set." The old church songs you sing are like landmarks to me. Thanks for setting them in my path this morning. May God bless you in your music.     Angie, New Mexico Hello monte, hope you are doing well. I just listened to 'Angel' and I loved it. Thanks for sharing it and keep the songs coming. Take care and have a great week. Shirley, Maine Hey Monte, you wanna know how perfectly you sing 'Georgia?' After hearing you sing that song, I got so homesick for that sweet southern state that I packed up my backpack, took my NORMAL, CA. cardboard sign outta the shed, flipped it over and wrote GEORGIA in big, bold black letters then headed out to the highway onramp, stuck my thumb out in a generally Georgia direction and stood there for the better part of two hours watching cars whiz by before I remembered that I am from Pennsylvania. That's how perfectly you sing 'Georgia.' Barry, Cal. - Pa.  Monte, You are so beautifully blessed. Thank you for sharing that blessing with us. I feel it so strong . God works in ALL THE GREATEST WAYS... Thank you for your friendship. In Christ... Lisa, Arkansas Hello Monte... Best regards from Poland. Agnieszka Hello Monte Carver... Greetings from Berlin, Germany. Mike Just wanted to say "hello" from Wyoming! AMYK You have a very familar sound... one that gives me goosebumps! Bonita, Mississippi Hey Monte, it's just me dropping in on you to say goodnight... xoxo. Dianna Paul, Nashville   What lovely songs you make... I love "Angel" All the best. Haya, Israel Wish you a nice sunday... greetings from Switzerland. Minka Hi Monte, you have an absolutely magic voice. I love Gospel Country... thanks so much for sharing. Donna, xxoo Australia   You're good and you are BLESSED! KEEP A HAPPY HEART... LET THE SAD BE MADE GLAD BY YOUR SONGS. Shirley, Georgia Good Morning Monte Have a wonderful day , everyday. love ~ n ~ hugs Jeanna, Illinois  THANK YOU, THANK YOU. I absolutely LOVE your music!!! Patty, Indiana Hello Monte, It is with respect and pleasure that I Feature you & your music on the World Truth Tour. God bless you & Best Wishes for your career. shane/usa Monte, I still say you are the greatest... Bonnie, Indiana Message Monte (name and email optional) Thank you for visiting ebs. Your support and comments are appreciated. C'mon back anytime. We are here 24/7. Until then, be safe... Butch Carver/ebs. Contact ebs (name and email optional)

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