GaryOsberg.com

I had my seventh birthday in Germany on the way to Vienna, Austria. I was an Army brat and we lived on the second floor of an apartment building at 41 Gregor Mendel Strassa.

When I was nine years old I was the leader of a small street gang of other Army brats and some Austrian children. Our apartment was across the street from a huge house with a fenced yard occupied by a Colonel in the Fifth Army. There were two dogs, Boxers, in the yard and one of the kids stuck his hand through the linked fence and a dog took his mitten.

The kid starting crying and I offered to go in and get his mitten. By then the dogs had moved to the opposite corner of the yard and when I starting walking towards them they rushed at me and knocked me down. I covered my face with my arms and they chewed on my arms and legs. After what seemed like a long time, a neighbor we called “The Fire Man”, because he stoked the large furnace in our apartment building, came to my rescue.

I remember walking home crying. All that was left of my winter coat was the torso. My pant legs were also gone.  When my mother opened the door she fainted. I spent many weeks in the Army hospital. For some reason they did not stich the wounds, so Ma spent a lot of time rubbing olive oil on the scars to lessen the redness. I have 11 scars on my arms and legs. I was afraid of dogs for a long time, but I did get over it.

Time heals most wounds, some just take a while longer. The Colonel bought me a new winter coat.

“No man is worth his salt who is not ready at all times to risk his well-being, to risk his body, to risk his life, in a great cause.” Teddy Roosevelt