My dad was drafted into the Vietnam war for 51 days before they realized he's nearly blind, after nearly shooting his Drill Sargent after losing his glasses. While waiting for his discharge papers, he was given the duty of planting flowers outside the base, supervised by the Sargent he'd nearly shot. The man was smoking a foul rose-flavored tobacco cigar, which earned the ire of a humming bird that had come to feed on the flowers. The little bird flew up to the face of the sargent and was about to attack him when my dad suck his hand between them and swatted the bird away. "McCauley! What the hell'd you do that for?" "Well, it looked like the bird was about to attack you sir." "Oh." The next morning, my father was dragged out of bed at four in the morning, marched to the main office, where the Sargent, and the base's Lieutenant and Captain were gathered with some other officers, and they went through the full ceremony of presenting my father with a medal of valor.
When they finally opened the box and pinned it on him, the medal was a piece of silk ribbon glued to a small, tinfoil-covered cutout of a hummingbird.
He was then presented with his discharge pares and told to get the hell out of there.
We've still got the medal somewhere, but I had to show him this when I saw it. The giant is a dead ringer for the Sargent, apparently.
At this point i don't have anything original to say to you except that i fucking adore your style, and i find it so full of life and it feels like the image will start moving if i look at it long enough. Basically all the things i already said to you. You have mad skills!