It was dark in our hooch, and we were writing letters by candlelight when Fernando commented, “It’s 6:00 am in El Paso (14 hours behind our time).” He had a circular dial time conversion table.
Sumo had memorized the plus 2-hour time difference in Japan (now 10:00 pm). His wife had probably just gone to bed.
I played with the dial, and it was 5:00 am on the West Coast . . . Jenny was still asleep in Laguna Beach. The differences in time zones were easy to calculate, but the dates were confusing.
Sydney was 4 hours ahead of Vietnam, and it was just past midnight on January 31st there. Reb had often said, “Margaret is always 4 hours ahead of me.”
The time zones, International Date Line and 10-day turnaround in mail communication was disorienting. I tried not to think about it. The most important thing to me was my short-timer status. I am now in single digits, waiting for the freedom bird to take me home.
I am a retired restaurant manager. My wife Jenny and I have been married for 50 years, have three grown children and two teen grand kids.
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