THE SOLDIER: A Vietnam War Era Novel

by Schwartz, Richard Alan

  The pilot stared at the floor. “I didn’t know, never imagined, I just sit up there and flip a switch, can’t see what happens under the fire and smoke…in an instant I’m miles away.” He wiped a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand. He glared at Brian, said, “I wish I still didn’t fucking know.” The pilot took his date’s hand and walked away.

  Brian was surprised at the pilot’s reaction. He looked at the others and said, “He asked.”

  “Never mind him,” Andrea said to Brian. “We can spend another day exploring Sydney tomorrow then we’ll be at my family’s sheep station the day after. Nothing but good times ahead.”

  Chapter 6

  After a ninety-minute jet flight from Sydney to Adelaide, a small plane flew them from there to Lameroo. On the last leg of the flight, Brian could see sheep grazing on distant rolling hills, the landscape dotted with occasional medium sized trees. Local transportation took Brian and Andrea to her father’s sheep station. They arrived at the ranch mid- morning.

  “So this is sheep country,” Brian said as he paid their driver and walked their bags up to the porch. He turned and gazed at the handful of outbuildings then nodded at a pen holding a few dozen sheep. “Their bleating seems a proper greeting to a sheep station.”

  “This is also a grain producing area…formerly mining in some areas,” Andrea said. She led him to her room where they unpacked.

  Andrea handed him a six by eighteen-inch box which he carefully opened. “I bought these in Sydney. They’re a bit fragile.”

  Brian’s eyebrows lifted. “Wind chimes.”

  “Hang them outside my window, please.”

  “I’ll have to make a hook to support them. Need flat stock and tools.”

  “Out to the wood and metal shop,” she said, grabbing his hand.

  He looked around the shop. Andrea sat on a stool. Brian cut a two-foot long section off one-inch by one-sixteenth steel flat stock. Using a vice, pliers, files, a drill press and drills, Brian fashioned a decorative hanger.

  “Know your way around tools,” she said while he sanded oxidation off the hanger.

  “My father could repair anything. I learned from him,” he said without looking at her and while boring two holes with the help of the drill press.

  “What color?” he asked, pointing to a row of spray-paint containers.

  “Blue,” she said. “Light blue, please.” Brian pointed to the cap of a spray can. “Yes. Perfect.”

  He suspended the hanger from a bent wire which he hung from a ceiling rafter, then sprayed all sides.

  “Second coat in an hour should do it,” he said.

  “Good timing,” Andrea said. “We can have lunch while the paint dries.”

  Following lunch and a second coat of paint, Andrea took him on a tour of the ranch. She asked Brian to drive them in a small pickup.

  “Describe ranch life,” Brian asked.

  She stared out the side window for a bit then took a deep breath and replied, “Always work to do…from tending the sheep, working the crops, to fence, building, and vehicle repair. More to do than can be finished in a day.”

  “How do you decide when the day is over?”

  Andrea rubbed her chin then smiled and said, “When you think you are so tired you can’t lift your arms one more time, can’t possibly take one more step, you finish one more task.” He smiled and thought, “Sounds like New Year’s Eve in the Emergency Room.”

  Brian drove them for another hour, visiting pasture land dotted with small ponds and the high point of the local terrain which Andrea said was called Campbell’s Point.

  Back at the house, he switched off the engine. They heard then watched a Ute roar up the drive. It parked adjacent to them.

  “That’s my dad.” She hurried over to a tall, barrel-chested man, who gave her a bear-sized hug then extended a hand toward the soldier, greeting him with a firm handshake.

  “Charles Campbell,” he said. “Welcome.”

  “Brian Levin. Happy to be here.”

  “I’ve been showing him around,” Andrea said. “About to saddle a couple horses. We’ll head out to see parts of the ranch only accessible by horseback.”

  The plants you asked for are in the back of my pickup,” the big man said with a wide grin. “I’ve got some calls to make. You two have fun. Talk at dinner.”

  They rode for an hour then stopped at a pond to let the horses drink.

  “You’re comfortable in the saddle,” Andrea said.

  “Been riding since I was young,” he said. He gazed at the pleasant surroundings. “Seems odd though. So peaceful out here. Meanwhile, my friends are fearing for their lives and committing acts which may cause them lifelong mental scars.”

  “Dare I ask that you let those feeling go for now and enjoy being here.”

  He smiled. “For you, Aussie lady, I’ll try.”

  She pulled his lips down to hers for a long kiss.

  Returning to the ranch, the sun low in the sky, they unsaddled the horses and put them in a corral.

  Andrea asked, “Help me plant flowers?”

  “Sure,” Brian said with a shrug.

  With shovel and hoe, he broke up the soil in a flower bed which fronted the porch. Together, they planted three-inch annuals.

  “You don’t mind doing this kind of work?” she asked.

  He thought for a bit. “Not something I could do all day long. Kind of mindless, shouldn’t take too long, but let’s me think about other things while I work.”

  “I agree,” she said.

  “And like you said at the Royal Gardens, when grown, they might bring peace to tortured souls.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Is it a cliché to say you complete me?”

  “Andrea…”

  “I’ve never felt this close to anyone in my life.”

  His gaze moved from her eyes to the setting sun. “I feel the same way.”

  She continued, “I find myself considering what a future for us might look like.”

  “We’re together for six days. Not enough time to know each other…know what it’s like to live together and solve problems together. Talking about a future is foolish. I’ll head back to the states, get involved in my old life…you’ll find a man who understands sheep.”

  “That’s shite.” Hands on hips, she pouted. “I want a man who understands me; not the damn sheep…someone who loves me for who I am…makes me feel proud to be who I am, just like my Texan does.”

  He kneeled at the edge of the garden. While bedding a few plants, Brian said, “On my way to looking up something else, I’ve learned a word in the Maori language. Kairangi - someone held in high esteem. My six-day partner is kairangi.”

  Andrea lifted his face and kissed his lips then whispered, “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Late-afternoon the following day, Brian sipped tea on the porch with Andrea’s father. They each sat in a drift rope chair, the chair’s open weave allowing the gentle breeze to help keep them cool on that sunny morning. A small, square, tile-topped, table between them, a broad lawn before them, sheep grazed on a distant hill. The old man scratched the gray stubble on his cheek, raised his hat with one hand, ran the fingers of his other hand through his hair then snugged the hat down. He turned to Brian then commented, “You’re a little fella’ for combat.”

  Brian laughed. “Just a bit taller than the minimum to qualify for the Army.”

  A steady breeze wafted across the rolling hills of the ranch; enough to cool sweat on that sunny day but not enough to raise dust. Twenty-meters in front of the porch, Andrea pulled damp clothing from an overflowing, meter- wide, rattan laundry basket then clothes-pinned items to a line. As the articles of varied shapes, sizes, and colors waved, they added a cheery visual note to the sylvan scene.

  “Me daughter is filled with rainbows when she’s around you. Haven’t seen her like that since the accident.” His expression turned dark. “But you’ll head back to the war…you gonna take those rainbows
with you?”

  Brian sighed. “I’ll try not to but…”

  “Please, don’t hurt my girl.”

  Brian took a sip of tea then shook his head. He turned to Charles. “She belongs out here. In wide open spaces. I’ve lived near a big city all my life. The sound, grittiness, and velocity of a big city are in my blood.” Brian sighed then nodded toward Andrea. “Her rough, ranch girl exterior conceals a woman with a giving heart and huge intellect…each as big as…as the outback. Hurt her? Couldn’t do it.” He rolled his shoulders.

  “Andrea says you’re full of tension.”

  “From the war.” The Yank sipped his tea, then nodded. “At least tension.”

  “Back in the States, how did you get rid of it?”

  “I have a drum set.” He grinned and said. “Works well.”

  Charles nodded toward a small building. “That tan shed has an axe on the wall, gloves on the work bench…wood pile behind the shed.”

  “Wood pile? Oh…um…Thanks.”

  For the next hour, the staccato report of an axe splitting wood into quarters, accompanied by an occasional grunt, indicated Brian’s location.

  Shirtless, his sweat-covered upper body glistened in the sun.

  There was a rhythm to the work. Place a round of wood on the stump, the fluid motion of his arms and upper body resulting in a silvery flash as the ax head arced into the round, splitting it in half, the same motion split each half into quarters, throw quarters into a pile, and begin again.

  Place, swing, place, swing, place, swing, throw quarters. Andrea approached carrying a pitcher of water.

  He glanced at her then stopped swinging the ax, resting the handle against his thigh. Brian used his forearm to wipe rivulets of sweat from his forehead then smiled at Andrea.

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Yea. How’d you know?”

  “After my mom died…I found Dad out here plenty.”

  He raised the pitcher to his lips, drank most then poured the balance over his head.

  “More?” she asked.

  “No, but thanks.”

  “Reassuring,” she said, “to see my partner-for-the-week working on our ranch…creating a primal sound heard as long as men have worked this land.”

  He laughed.

  “Could you live out here?”

  Brian hesitated then wiped his hands on his pants, and shook his head. “Not a country boy.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Lots of repetitive, tedious work on a ranch. Don’t do well with that.”

  “You’d said you inherited land in a rural area from your folks.”

  “The arable portions are rented to local farmers. My involvement is limited to upkeep on the house and vehicles.”

  “You’d adjust to life out here,” Andrea insisted.

  “Doesn’t work. I’ve tried. After a short time, I begin messing up as I can’t keep my mind on my work. Also miss the big city’s music clubs, symphony, and museums. I’m a city boy, through and through.”

  Andria waved a hand at the setting sun. “Sunsets like these…”

  “Even sunsets become boring…for me.”

  “Will you become bored with me?”

  He considered her question for a while, then nodded toward the shed. They walked over and entered the small building. Brian pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto the work bench. He put the ax in a vice, picked up a sharpening stone, ran it across the blade a few times, checked that the edge was in good condition then returned the axe to its wall mounted holder. Buttoning his shirt, the Texan turned to her and said, “Life is different when I’m around you. My mind relaxes when we’re together. I’m able to free up some of my anxiety.” They left the shed and walked a few paces. He stopped and turned her toward him. “Chopping wood helped, like a burden lifted from my shoulders, but that also happened when I awoke from my nap at your place last Friday. You were leaning against me, my state of mind, normally angry and anxious, but you, you and your little apartment, dare I say, felt like home. I don’t see how I could ever become bored with you.”

  “I could do that for you out here.” Andrea’s eyes began tearing.

  “Why sad?”

  “I lived most of my life on this land. Always wanted to end up a rancher’s wife…raise my children out here.”

  “During our handful of days, Aussie lady, you’ve seen into my soul. You know and understand, I’m as opposite from a rancher as a man can get.”

  In little more than a whisper, she said, “I know but…”

  “So, it’s for the best if we don’t stay in touch after this week.”

  “That’s cruel.” Teary eyed, still facing him, Andrea used her shoulder to wipe a tear of her cheek, then ran fingers through the belt loops at the front of his jeans, thought for a while, and pulled him close.

  She kissed his cheek and embraced him. “Andrea, I’m covered in sweat.”

  The auburn-haired lady rested her head on his shoulder, kissed him then said in a quiet tone, “Don’t care.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head then said, “I understand not staying in touch is cruel but it would be crueler still if one of us accepts a life they dislike to please the other.” Brian hesitated then added, “I wouldn’t do that to you and I know you wouldn’t do that to me.”

  She gazed in his eyes. “You’re a part of me. Like the combined metals…remember? How do I separate us?”

  Brian put his hands on her cheeks, kissed her lips. “Remember what you want from life. Could you see yourself living in or near a big city in the States?”

  “Never. The States…too much violence. Unlikely I’d ever visit. And big cities, the tall buildings, the crowds, they close in on me like they’re trying to crush my spirit.”

  “And yet you live in Sydney.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She pushed out of his embrace and said in a trembling voice, “I caused a car accident not far from here. I killed two people and hoped that living and taking college classes in Sidney, would help me heal.”

  In an anger-tinged voice, he said, “We could have talked about this. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  She replied in an angry tone. “You think it’s easy to tell someone, you caused the deaths of a mother and her infant son?” She turned away from him, covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  Brian turned her to face him and wrapped his arms around her trembling body.

  Andrea calmed after a bit and smiled at him. “So reassuring to have someone holding me when my world feels like it’s heading over a cliff.”

  “I’m glad I’m here,” he said, kissed her, then asked, “Did the time in Sydney help?”

  She wiped her eyes then took his hand. They started walking back to the house. “My time away from here did nothing to help…until this articulate Texan arrived to turn my life on its head. Instead of all my mental energy being consumed by guilt, our relationship forced me to use it in other directions.”

  “Such as?”

  “Taking care of you.”

  His voice incredulous, he said, “You have to be kidding. I know, I know. A tough combat soldier, what’s to take care of? But when you’d laugh at something I said, the way you looked at me when we danced and when I held you. I knew some of the crap from the war was erased. That made me happy. Satisfied really, and wanting to get over my guilt.”

  Brian shrugged. “And late tomorrow I fly back to Sydney then back to Vietnam the following day.”

  “I’ve never told anyone the crushing guilt I feel over killing those two.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” He lifted her chin and kissed her.

  Sounding apprehensive she stated in a quiet voice, “If I didn’t tell you, I may not have told anyone.”

  “We need to finish talking about our future. Which I believe we don’t have.”

  She sighed then kissed his cheek. “I understand. I fantasized about a life together but realized after we c
ame out here, we had little chance at a future. I wanted to write but, I’m not a city girl so…tomorrow is goodbye.”

  Heads drooping, sorrow in their hearts, they covered the distance to the house like mourners walking to a grave.

  * * *

  They arrived at the Seasonal Fair early the following morning. Andrea explained, “As I mentioned previously, this area was originally perceived as mining country, yet for more than a century, it’s an important regional support center for the pastoral industry. This has become an annual get together. Had it since World War II. Dad was here before sunup to get the steam-powered sawmill running. That’s his project every year.”

  They wandered past many vendors; homemade goods available as far as the eye could see. The duo talked and laughed as they walked while sampling many of the goods on display.

  “About the accident.” Brian said. “I’ve been thinking, you should tell me specifics, before I leave.”

  Andrea shuddered then avoided looking at him, “Not sure.”

  “If you can’t tell me…as close as we’ve become…remember…today is our last day together.”