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Gary. C. Moore is a well-known and celebrated
thinker and commentator of some stature amongst
the Internet's worldwide philosophical community.
His assiduously researched, trenchant analyses
and reviews of the works of Martin Heidegger
and other metaphysicians, together with his
searching explorations of Greek and Oriental Philosophy and Religion, literature and film
appear in the archives of many of the web's
foremost mailing lists. Delivered in
a liquid prose redolent of a poet rather
than a philosopher, his writings are eagerly
read by all lovers of philosophical hermeneutics,
interpretation and investigation. He is also
held in some affection, as well
as respect, because of
his patient, friendly and helpful attitude
- particularly to any 'philosophical
newbies'.
Gary in uniform with new puppy. He explains..."Some
neighbors gave us the pooch named Genipra.
I don't know how narrow streets  are in England, but I almost got an Army
truck stuck between cars on one of these
streets on assignment to help a sargeant
move from his house. I was VERY careful backing
up, did not destroy anything, and told the
people that sent me out, 'No way'."
His captain was an ex-green beret who told
them horrible stories about our allies, the
South Vietnamese (the real conflict was between
those educated in French Catholic culture
and the ignorant Buddhist peasantry which
was considered as a nationalist identity
by the North-- remember the Communists refused
to accept the surrender of Saigon in1975
from anyone in the South Vietnamese government
except General Big Minh, the ONLY Buddhist
general in the South Vietnamese forces. Gary's
groups were divided into two parts to be
shipped to Vietnam. The first part left and
they all died. American casualty lists from
both the Korean War
(36,000 killed) and the Vietnam War (50,000
killed) were highly underestimated, so these
figures are old. At the very last day Gary's
group got a change of orders, and by a bureaucratic
blunder he ended up at Camp Darby ("Darby's
Rangers" from WWII), ten miles outside
of Pisa.
 Me and my first wife after getting married
in the Pisa town hall by the mayor. The Camp
Darby authorities said they could not marry
anybody, the Italians said at first it would
have to be a Catholic wedding (to all intents
and purposes Catholicism was still the state
religion.) A Baptist missionary in Genoa
was forced to preach from his apartment balcony
because he legally could not set up a Baptist
church, but later said I could have a civil
ceremony with the Mayor. She was a good woman,
believed in me when she should not have,
but was too dependent on masculine leadership.
After our divorce (her idea), on her own,
she did not have a good life.
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