Vietnam Veterans of America
National on-line Magazine
"I highly recommend this novel, both as a good read and as a glimpse into the lives of tormented souls, good souls who struggle to get through a tormented time and stay strong . . .
I'd forgotten what life in the 1960s was like; this book lays it out and nails it down.
Part of the butcher's bill of war is the death of relationships. Sawyer demonstrates that sad fact well in this solid novel of awakening and self-discovery." -David Willson, Books Reviewer
From Military Writers Society of America
". . . an emotionally charged book about a young married couple struggling with the Army, the Vietnam War, and return (of) a wounded veteran.
The characters are fictitious, but it's obvious the author has walked the walk . . .
Vets and spouses alike will relate well to this book." -Rob Ballister, reviewer Military Writers Society of America, author
From the Inside Flap
"What?" Meg asked, standing in her nightgown and bare feet at the bedroom doorway. "You're home now. It's OK, Tom. You're OK."
He continued shaking his head from side to side. "No . . . no more. Can't do this anymore." Emphasizing each word, his hand limply hit the ﬂoor.
"What? What can't you do?"
"Keep . . . going . . . back. I can't get out of there." He looked over at Meg. "Now things that didn't even happen, didn't happen to me . . . are happening. I didn't know Smiley when he got hit. I wasn't there." Tom paused for a minute.
Meg couldn't think of a reply-- just stared and listened.
"But tonight I held Smiley, waiting for the dust-off. And the medics weren't-- they weren't . . ." He looked into her eyes. Even through the darkness of the room, Meg saw he was lost.
As usual, she tossed him towels so he could dry off from the cold water she'd splashed to wake him. He picked up one and wiped off his forehead. Instinctively, he draped it around his neck, just like he did sweat towels when running trails in Vietnam.
"Tom?" Meg whispered. "Tom?"
Hearing nothing, he remained on the ﬂoor, staring into the metal coils of the box springs, wet towels strewn about him.