Comments on: The Sergeant Major’s Many Wounds http://www.vitia.org/wordpress/2003/08/22/the-sergeant-majors-many-wounds/ faults | sins | abuses Fri, 21 Nov 2008 13:15:53 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.6.1 By: michelle http://www.vitia.org/wordpress/2003/08/22/the-sergeant-majors-many-wounds/#comment-172 michelle Wed, 31 Dec 1969 17:00:00 +0000 http://www.vitia.org/wordpress/archives/2003/08/22/the-sergeant-majors-many-wounds/#comment-172 hhheeeuuuuww. When did you write that? hhheeeuuuuww.

When did you write that?

]]> By: Mike http://www.vitia.org/wordpress/2003/08/22/the-sergeant-majors-many-wounds/#comment-173 Mike Wed, 31 Dec 1969 17:00:00 +0000 http://www.vitia.org/wordpress/archives/2003/08/22/the-sergeant-majors-many-wounds/#comment-173 It's been on my hard drive, in various forms, for a few years now. My dad sent me John Eisenberg's obituary last week, and though the characters are mostly based on people I knew in the military, the heart of the story is really John's, so I thought this week was a good time to do some heavy-duty revisionary work and put this up. I barely remember him -- I wasn't born yet when he got back home from a long trip to Sri Lanka that the Smithsonian had sent him on to do a census of the wild elephants there, and returned to an overgrown front yard and asked my dad for some advice about lawnmowers. If I recall the anecdotes correctly, he returned the favor by offering my dad advice about the Java Macaque named Hubert that my dad had adopted. . . Shortly after I was born, or so the tale goes, my dad dropped off Hubert at the zoo and picked up me and my mom from the hospital on the return trip. It’s been on my hard drive, in various forms, for a few years now. My dad sent me John Eisenberg’s obituary last week, and though the characters are mostly based on people I knew in the military, the heart of the story is really John’s, so I thought this week was a good time to do some heavy-duty revisionary work and put this up. I barely remember him — I wasn’t born yet when he got back home from a long trip to Sri Lanka that the Smithsonian had sent him on to do a census of the wild elephants there, and returned to an overgrown front yard and asked my dad for some advice about lawnmowers.

If I recall the anecdotes correctly, he returned the favor by offering my dad advice about the Java Macaque named Hubert that my dad had adopted. . . Shortly after I was born, or so the tale goes, my dad dropped off Hubert at the zoo and picked up me and my mom from the hospital on the return trip.

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