I wondered, if I died suddenly, was there anything my friends and family might find that would embarrass them from the personal items in my lockbox?
After much thought, I decided the only thing they could find that might be surprising, or embarrassing is a nude picture of me that my husband, Doug, took with him to Vietnam in May of 1969.
When he was killed in action, the picture survived. It was among his personal effects, which were all sent home to me weeks later.
The picture has an interesting backstory. It began as an innocent tease.
He was to leave for Vietnam in a little more than a week. Still newlyweds, we went to a lake cottage to be alone together for a few days. At least for those few days, we could pretend he wasn’t going anywhere.
We had just awakened on the second morning we were there. He got up to go shower in the bathroom and I stayed in bed a little longer, all toasty-warm under the covers.
Suddenly, he appeared in the doorway, holding a camera to his eye.
“Smile!”
Horrified, I ducked under the covers. “No way! You can’t take that picture. I’m not wearing anything!”
He backed away from the doorway. “I know, Babe. I’m only teasing you.”
Hearing that, and thinking he had given up the idea, I relaxed. Then feeling a little frisky, I sat up, tossed the covers aside, threw my arms in the air, and shouted, “TA-DA!”
((( *snap* )))
The picture was taken.
I remember I was surprised they developed it at the photo store in town. Doug wasn’t. It was an Army base, after all.
I’ve never been able to discard the picture, because I knew how much it meant to Doug to have it with him in Nam. You would’ve thought it was solid gold, the way he referred to it in his letters.
And now it belongs to me … along with a beautiful memory.
[In loving memory: Douglas (“Doc”) Scott Kempf, KIA 9/5/69, who earned the Bronze Star with first Oak Leaf Cluster, The Purple Heart and five other medals posthumously: SP4; RA; HHC, 4th BN, 12th INF, 199th LIB.]