“How much longer you here?”
John put his feet up on the table and leaned back in his chair. “Depends. A year more. Maybe two.”
“You know, I heard rumors about you before I got here. They say you’re a good pilot,” David continued.
“I hold my own.”
“You’re one lucky SOB,” David said. “You have a great record.”
“It’s a job,” John sighed, finishing his beer and motioning for another round.
“Someone told me you were awarded a medal and promoted to Colonel or something.”
“Can you see me leading a crew of anything bigger than a street fight?” John quipped.
David put out his cigarette and reached for another. “I see your point.”
“I could have been a Colonel.”
David shook his head. “That doesn’t look like a Colonel insignia to me.”
“They told me I had a problem with authority,” John smiled as two more bottles of beer arrived. “Imagine that.”
David laughed. “Yeah, imagine that.” He leaned his elbows onto his knees and looked around. “And to think we volunteered for this.”
John laughed. “You volunteered?” He leaned back again in his chair. “I was invited.”
“Lucky you.” David’s smile faded. “You hear things back home, but it’s nothing like the real thing. First tour was different, nothing like this.”
“New week. New players.” John lifted his beer to his friend. “Welcome to hell.” He took another long pull on his beer. “How much longer do you have?”
David answered immediately. “Five months, one week, four days. I’m almost out of this God forsaken place. Thought I’d luck out and they’d end this thing before it escalated. But it seems my services are still needed to defend life, liberty, and someone’s political agenda.” David leaned back in his chair and pulled out his flask.
“You sly dog. Holding out on me?”
“Just saving the best for last,” David said as he handed it to his friend. “Come on man. Have a real drink with your old pal. Who knows when we’ll see each other again?”
John accepted it, took a swig and handed it back to David as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
David took a long gulp as well, set it on the old wooden table, then lowered his head. “What she must think of me,” he said slowly shaking his head. “Becca says they are protesting back home; they call us baby killers, butchers. It’s all over the news. Thank God my kid’s too young to understand all this,” he added under his breath.
“They don’t have a clue back in the states. Not a clue.” John looked at his friend. “Besides, Becca knows you better than you know yourself. Trust me on that.” He looked down at his hands. “Do you hear from her often?”
David nodded. “Every week. I write her back and tell her that the country is beautiful and the weather’s crappy.” He sighed heavily. “What the hell are we still doing here, man?” He shook his head again. “Do you know how long it’s been since I made love to my wife?”
“At least one kid ago,” John grinned wryly.
“The last time I saw her,” he continued.
John shook his head, putting his hands over his ears. “Man, I don’t want to hear this.”
“The night before I left.” David talked softly, staring at the ground, talking more to himself. “God, I miss her. Her smile. The smell of her hair.”
John looked up at the ceiling. “And he tells me anyway.” He turned back to David. “You’re telling me anyway? I haven’t seen a woman in weeks. I probably won’t see one for another six months. There isn’t a cold shower for five hundred miles. Man, you are brutal.” John took off his sidearm and set it on the table. “Just shoot me now.”
David held a fresh cigarette between his lips, unlit, and then pulled a picture out of his pocket. “This is your godson, D. R.. Becca calls him Little David,” he said, handing it to John. “I missed his birth. Now, I’m going to miss his first birthday.”
John took the picture of Becca holding their newborn son. She looked so beautiful. He brushed the picture lightly with his finger and smiled. “Looks like you.” He looked up at David, his smile growing. “Poor kid.”
David chuckled as he took the picture back. “She always asks if I see you. She says she writes to you but never hears back. Makes her crazy. You know how she is.”
John lit David’s cigarette and then put another between his lips and lit it. “Now you can write her and tell her you’ve seen me and that I’m fine.” John raised his bottle to his friend. “To Becca and all that’s good and innocent that we left behind.”
“To getting home in one piece,” David said, raising his bottle.
“Amen, brother.”
They both took a sip and then David turned back to John. “You know, she’s pregnant again?”
“No, I didn’t know.” John forced a smile. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah, first she couldn’t get pregnant. Now she’s a fertile turtle,” he laughed before taking a long drag on his cigarette.
John looked down at his hands then back up at his friend, not sure what to say. “When is she due?”
“The day I get back.” David exhaled, tapping the ashes from his cigarette. They were silent for many moments. Then David began playing with a nail sticking up from the wooden table as he spoke first. “I heard you went down and were MIA for a couple of weeks.”
“More like a couple of days,” John corrected. He looked toward the corner where there were raised voices and loud laughter from a heated poker game. “Yeah, we went in for an extraction and got hit at the LZ. Kind of like today,” he smiled. “One of the minor drawbacks of the job.” He knocked on the wooden table. “Thought we were all dead, for sure.” John leaned back as he remembered, his chair creaking under his six-foot frame. “We knew they were out there somewhere, because they shot us down.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, then exhaled. “But then they were silent. We didn’t know where they were, if they were twenty feet or a klick away.” He shook his head. “They’re sneaky little bastards,” he smiled. “We went down at dusk, dug in and waited.”
“For what?” David asked.
“To be rescued?” John replied. “To die?” He turned to his friend. “I’m a pilot. When I’m up there,” he pointed skyward, “I can see it all and I’m in control. But at night? In the woods? On the ground?” he added flatly. “I gotta tell you, I was scared. We lost two birds, three crewmen and four of the guys we were sent in to rescue that day.”
“You walked away, man.” David leaned forward and slapped him on the shoulder. “Anytime you can walk away is a win,” he insisted. He took a swig from his flask. “Do you remember Carl Washington from high school? Best hands our senior year? All state tailback?”
John nodded.
“Yeah, well, I ran into old Carl the other day. Actually, I tripped over him; only I didn’t recognize him because he had no face. I only knew it was him ‘cause the picture in his pocket was him, his wife, Gina, and their four kids. Damn shame,” he said shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, man. I know he was a friend of yours.” John leaned in closer. “Do you ever wonder what the hell we’re really doing here?”
David shook his head. “Not my place to wonder. I’m just an advisor.”
“Good, then you can advise someone to get me the hell out of here!” John stated emphatically. “This is some messed up crap. I knew what I signed up for. Or thought I did,” he took another sip. “We come over here, do what they tell us without question,” he said lowering his voice because four young soldiers were sitting at the table adjacent to theirs. “Half these kids don’t even know what to expect.”
David spun his empty beer bottle. “They get basic.”
John scoffed. “Three months. Maybe six? Boot is learning the rules and regs, plain and simple. C’mon, man. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Do you know what really goes on down here? We’re killing civilians.” He
lowered his voice. “We’re killing kids,” he began. “Ours and theirs.”
“Who knew you’d grow a conscience?” David asked, motioning for another round.
“This whole thing is really messed up,” John repeated.
David held up his flask. Loai nodded.
“Not everyone sees things quite like that. In fact, I’d be careful just what you say, how loud you say it and to whom. You know what I mean?” David responded.
“I’m not afraid of what anyone thinks about what I say anymore. There are a lot of guys who feel the same way,” John said, lighting another cigarette and tossing the Zippo to David.
“You know this for a fact?”
“A lot,” he stressed. “Other officers too. Not everyone thinks what we are doing here is right. You, of all people, should know. You’ve seen what goes on here.”
“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up,” David said lighting his cigarette. “Since when did you become the leader in the cause to right the wrongs for humanity?”
John paused for a moment, looking deeply into David’s eyes. “Since I had to pick up someone’s kid - one that wasn’t old enough to have hair on his chin,” he replied, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands.
David lowered his head, contemplating. Loai interrupted them with their beer and took David’s flask to fill. Neither of them spoke for almost a minute, both looking down into the dirt. The bartender returned with his flask. David nodded in gratitude, and paid him. Loai left with a bow. David shook his head, still not looking up. “I’ve seen seven-year-old Vietnamese children throw grenades into our and ARVN vehicles,” he began.
John shook his head and looked down at the cigarette in his own hand.
“Remember where we are,” David said, drawing in a deep breath, then looking up as John did. Their eyes met. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know what’s happening down here.” He scratched his chin and shook his head. “That I don’t see what’s happening. I see the innocent die with those not so innocent.” David crushed his cigarette into the ground beneath his foot. “I’m done being a part of the carnage that’s tearing this country apart.” David looked around. “I’m just biding my time.” His eyes met John’s. “I’m tired,” he sighed. “I want to go home. I miss my family. I miss my wife and I’d like to meet my kids.”
John took a deep drag off his cigarette and looked at him. “I miss clean socks and real sheets.”
David grinned. “Here’s to clean socks and real sheets,” he said raising his flask.
“To your family,” John smiled, raising his bottle and tapping the flask.
David repeated sadly, “to my family.”
The men sat back, quietly emptied their bottles and smoked their last cigarettes.
Chapter 13: October 1, 1968
Outside the Officer’s Club, the soldiers in the guard tower suddenly looked skyward. They heard the mortars within seconds of their leaving the tubes, even though they were over a mile away. Only those who were in the showers, listening to loud music or talking loudly in the crowded Officer’s Club were at a disadvantage.
The sirens wailed for only an instant before the shells fell from the sky, giving no one a chance to react. Three mortars fell in three different locations within the camp perimeter. One landed in the compound between the enlisted hooches and one landed just feet from the latrine. And one landed on the Officer’s Club. It was night. It was dark. It was loud. The night sky filled with fire and smoke, the air with sirens, gunfire and screaming. The hooches were just mildly damaged, soldiers tossed from their bunks. The latrines were intact. The Officer’s Club took a direct hit.
A dozen soldiers, wearing whatever they could throw on or woke up in, were already at what used to be the club’s entrance, digging through debris. The first man they reached had no pulse; the second, no arms on which to check for a pulse. The third man had all his limbs and a pulse. Once they moved debris from on top of him and dusted him off, they slowly started to check for other injuries. There was blood in his hair, but they didn’t see a cut. Slowly, John opened his eyes. The man standing over him held him down.
“Don’t move, sir,” he said, turning quickly to motion for assistance. “Over here!” he yelled. Several men ran to their aid. John sat up suddenly, startling the men around him. “You shouldn’t move sir. In case there are further injuries.”
“I’m fine,” he said, looking around in a panic. “David!” John yelled. David!”
Cries of pain rang out, as did cries for assistance.
John stood up, rubble and sand falling from his clothes. He paid no attention to anyone and began digging for his friend. “David?” he yelled louder. He turned to the men who helped him. “My friend! Help me find my friend!”
The men helped John dig through the debris. They found Loai. He was terrified but uninjured, except for a few minor scratches. He bowed in gratitude for their assistance, and helped look for other survivors.
“David!” John yelled at the top of his lungs. A soldier with a serious head wound wandered up to them and collapsed into a medic’s arms. John helped the medic carry him to waiting responders. As John turned around, he spied David crumpled against the bar. He wasn’t moving. John tripped and climbed over debris, yelling for help as he went. “David,” he gasped, uncovering his friend’s body. He reached for his arm, and then his neck. “Oh, God, David!” he exclaimed. John leaned in closer, trying to get a pulse, trying to hear him breathing.
“Damn,” came the faint response. “You gonna kiss me or help me?”
John held him down. “Can you feel your toes?”
David moved his hand to remove wood and sand from his mouth. He spat the rest out. He looked at John and nodded.
“Do you hurt anywhere?” John asked.
“Yeah, where you’ve got your damn arm,” he said. David tried to raise up but grimaced and fell back down.
John moved the tin from over his friend’s chest and clenched his teeth. “Don’t move,” he instructed. “Medic!” he yelled. “We need a medic here!”
David looked down and saw a metal bar extending from his stomach. He reached for it and suddenly felt dizzy. “Oh, crap,” he gasped.
John pulled David’s hand away. “Don’t move,” he instructed as he pulled off his shirt and held it against the wound to help stop the bleeding.
David closed his eyes. “This can’t be good.”
Two men ran to John’s side.
“We need a litter, now,” John instructed. “This man’s seriously injured.”
They both stumbled through the rubble calling for a medic and a litter. There was a cry to John’s right, and he turned around. One of the soldiers that had been sitting at the table beside them was sobbing. “Somebody help me, please.”
John was torn. He turned to David and put his friend’s hand onto the blood-soaked shirt. “Be right back,” he said as he rose.
“I’ll wait right here,” David said almost in a whisper, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Don’t be too long.”
John rushed to the injured soldier. The man was bleeding from his leg. John used his undershirt for a tourniquet and then lifted the man and handed him off to the next person he saw. “Where’s that litter?” he asked anxiously.
“On its way, Major,” the medic responded.
Three men climbed over the debris carrying two litters. John motioned them to follow him. Two broke off with one litter when they found another wounded soldier. John and the remaining medic climbed to David’s side.
“How ya doing?” John asked.
“Just peachy, thanks,” he replied weakly. “See what I mean?”
John furrowed his brow.
“This is a messed up country. Who the heck would want to blow up a couple of guys while they’re having a drink, for God’s sake?”
The medic moved the shirt, then put it back, shaking his head very slightly at John. They rose and carefully lifted David onto the litter.
> “The picture,” David gasped, reaching for his pocket, his hand shaking. “Where’s my picture?”
John patted his shoulder. “They’re gonna fix you up now, buddy.”
“The picture,” David insisted, in a loud whisper.
“What?” John asked, confused.
“My picture,” David gasped as he grabbed toward his chest.
John reached into his friend’s pocket, found the picture and handed it to David.
David looked at the picture, and then pushed it to John. “Keep it,” he said weakly.
“No,” John replied. “It’s yours.”
“Take it,” David insisted as they lifted him up. “Please,” he begged weakly. “She’d want you to have it. I’ve got plenty more,” he lied. “Really.”
John walked with him. “I’ll hold onto it for you,” he said. “Until you’re out of surgery.”
David grabbed his hand. “If I don’t make it, you gotta look after them for me.”
“Don’t talk that way, man.” John shook his head, fighting tears. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
“I’m serious, John. You’ve got to tell her I love her. You’ve got to tell her,” he gasped. “And the kids… promise me you’ll take care of them.” He grabbed John’s arm, looking him in the eyes. “Promise me.”
John hesitated, “I promise,” John answered sincerely.
“Hey, John,” David sighed, lying back down on the litter. “You’re not flying me out? Right? I mean after your last time out and all.”
“Nah, I think I’ll let someone else do the flying this time.”
“Good,” he gasped, almost out of breath. “Nothing against you, man.”
“Right,” John smiled.
“Hey, John,” David said, forcing a weak smile. “I used to think you were a real asshole.”
John nodded. “Yeah, well, you always said you aspired to be just like me.” They arrived at the ambulance and David was loaded into it next to another soldier. John patted his friend on the leg as he was lifted in and then watched as they closed the doors and raced off to the hospital. John closed his eyes, said a little prayer to someone he hadn’t talked to in a very long time, looking up toward the heavens. When he looked back down the ambulance was gone.
Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel Page 9