“What’s up, Top?” Polack asked.
Sgt. Hawkins looked up once again from his paperwork, and after seeing LG standing there in his boony, a sudden twitch near his cheek pulled at the corners of his mouth to form a half smile.
“You boys get some chow and be ready to move out with your squads at 0900.”
Both men responded simultaneously,
“Top, we just got back from spending the night out on LP. We’re hungry and need to crash.”
Top raised his hand for them to stop.
“I know where you’ve been and know that you’re both tired. Join the rest of the crowd.”
“But, Top,” Polack began and stopped when Top raised a finger this time.
“The entire First Platoon is going out to sweep the area where Rock targeted the enemy mortar tube last night to poke around where they blew the ambush. The bodies may still be there, and there’s a chance that Rock’s group might have missed something in the dark. Sgt. Holmes will fill you in before leaving.” He offered his sternest look to the men. “Dismissed!”
The two men stood in place, momentarily stunned at the news. Polack finally lightly swatted his partner on the hip,
“C’mon G, let get some chow.”
Top went back to his stack of papers; the two men turned and walked out.
“This is bullshit! Them lifers got nothin’ better to do than fuck with us, brothers...”
Polack interrupted LG,
“Wait a minute now, LG, I’m not black. So how is the man only fucking with the brothers? I’ll be there walking right behind you on this patrol.”
“Yeah, I know you ain’t black, but you still a brother!”
Polack laughed at his statement.
“Shit ain’t right, Polack, and I don’t know about you, but last night was the most terrifying night of my life. I lost count of the number of times we shoulda’ been killed.”
LG hesitated while they got in line at the mess tent before continuing.
“First, the gook platoon almost stepped on us, and then the mortar fire and artillery rounds went off, Rock’s ambush, and then them fucking apes messin’ with us, and everybody else thinks it’s funny!”
“I feel for ya, G, and I was just as freaked out! My asshole puckered up so tight; I won’t be able to shit for a week!” Both men laughed to relieve the tension.
“You know, we can take our chow back to the hootch and try to catch some Z’s after eating. We might luck out and get a little more than two hours before we have to leave.”
“Yeah, you right!”
Upon reaching their hootch, Sergeant Holmes exited as Polack reached for the door. They all expressed surprise at seeing one another.
“Sgt. Holmes...” Polack didn’t get a chance to finish.
“Can it, Polack! I don’t want to hear your whining about this patrol. It is what it is, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it. I have my orders, just like you have yours!”
LG and Polack were shocked for the second time in fifteen minutes.
“We weren’t going to bitch about anything. We just wanted to say good morning to ya’,” Polack recovered with a sly smile.
“Right on!” LG added wholeheartedly.
Sgt. Holmes looked confused momentarily, then broke into a grin.
“Why do I have to have all the smart asses in my platoon?” he asked, and then walked away shaking his head. He stopped and turned after several feet.
“Get some sack time, I’ll wake ya’s when it’s time to go!”
Sgt. Holmes turned again and resumed his walk toward the mess tent.
Walking through the door, LG declared,
“Ya’ know, Sarge ain’t bad for a lifer. I sorta like the guy!”
“You got that right!” Polack agreed. He set his equipment to the side and then crashed, face first, onto his cot.
EPILOGUE
Life presents trials while growing up, periodically placing us in situations where we come face-to-face with fear. Hopefully, we learn from these experiences and then move forward. For me, running was often the response to fear during my adolescent years. Pure adrenaline propelled me to safety, and I’d never be able to match that same speed at any other time. As you mature, you look back at those earlier fears and scoff at how foolish they were. Life must have created a written script to follow, because most of us have faced similar fears and can relate to the comparable stories of others.
Fear of the unknown is a challenging sensation that we might experience at any age. In many cases, I can look back today and laugh at some of my childhood reactions, although they weren’t funny at the time. However, fear continued to visit and make its presence known, and life regularly gave me new reasons to be afraid. My “fight-or-flight” reflex was frequently on overdrive.
I still have nightmares, but not because of dark basements, witches, or scary movies. (Oh, I take that back... one movie, ‘The Exorcist’, got the best of my wife and me.) Those new fears that I experience today are still because of the unknown, but they’re of a completely different nature. As adults, our worst trepidations usually deal with serious issues such as having a first child, starting a new job, paying bills, divorce, purchasing a new home, encountering natural disasters, or illness, just to name a few. Of course, there are times when we’d all like to run away from our problems in life.
I firmly believe that dealing with the fears of my youth helped to shape the person I am today. At the same time, I sometimes marvel that events I experienced in my lifetime did not send me over the brink! Instead, my wife and daughter think of me as a person with a calm, passive demeanor... their hero... their rock. I guess I’m a pretty good actor.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: GOOD LUCK CHARMS AND SUPERSTITIONS
When writing ‘When Can I Stop Running?’, it brought to mind many of the Alpha Company group discussions that took place at least once a month, either at a firebase or back in Cu Chi. The subject of good luck charms, superstitions, and religion was one of the most frequently debated. Most of the soldiers in Vietnam carried a talisman of some kind – an object believed to protect them from evil. These items became an important part of their daily lives. We were young and needed something to hang onto... something to give us hope... something to help keep our fears at bay... something to give us strength... something to help us get back home alive and in one piece after twelve months in Hell.
The most common of these amulets were religious items such as crosses hanging from chains, medallions of St. Christopher, scapulars, rosary beads, and bibles.
Many soldiers also carried pictures of their girlfriends or wives. Infantry soldiers usually kept them inside their helmets or within metal ammo cans that were stored under rucksacks. One man wore a piece of green yarn around his wrist, a gift from his two-year-old daughter upon leaving home. I also saw rabbit feet in various colors, unique coins, engraved lighters and small American flags. All were slices of home and cherished mementos.
Some soldiers wore vintage survival knives in sheathes or possessed other military keepsakes and heirlooms handed down through their families for generations. The Bowie knife one particular soldier carried saw service in World War II, Korea, and then the second of two tours in Vietnam; he was the fourth family member to wear it during a war.
Others kept tokens representing a “sign of the times” from back home – meant to make a statement rather than function as a good luck charm: peace symbols, “love” beads, and jewelry fashioned from braided boot laces. The latter – necklaces, wristbands, and pendants – represented “Black Power” and many African-American soldiers wore them to support that movement back in the world.
Personally, I fabricated a charm just before going out to the bush for the first time. I took a 50 caliber tracer round and separated the copper slug from its brass casing. Next, I lit the red incendiary powder, dug out the spent powder from within the copper bullet, looped some trip wire inside, then filled the empty cavity with a mixture of mud and concrete. Once dri
ed, I threaded a simple chain through the hand made eyelet and wore it around my neck 24/7, never removing it until the day I left Vietnam. At the out-processing center in Cam Ranh Bay, I was stopped by MP’s prior to boarding the Freedom Bird and told that I was not allowed to leave Vietnam with my good luck charm, and was forced to leave it in the contraband box.
What about superstitions? Many soldiers carried Ace of Spades playing cards with them while on patrol, then left them on dead enemy bodies or scattered them around the battlefield. Americans thought the cards scared or spooked enemy soldiers, but years later we heard that the symbol didn’t impact them in the least. In retrospect, we can all agree the playing card, at a minimum, was a motivator and morale booster for those American troops.
Most of us have experienced premonitions of some sort during our lives. Some may refer to this phenomenon as their “sixth sense” kicking in. During the Vietnam war, any number of things may have triggered that overwhelming and inexplicable feeling of dread. It may have been something in the air that just didn’t smell right, noticing the sudden silence of the jungle, or hearing an unfamiliar sound. Those gut feelings that something catastrophic was about to happen were experienced by enlisted men, officers, short-timers, and Cherries alike. Many times there was no explanation for the sudden stab of foreboding and fear the soldiers experienced; most likely it was all a part of their survival instinct. Failure to act on these “warnings” often had disastrous – and sometimes fatal – results. Yet there were those who chalked up acting on those cautionary apprehensions as superstition.
Many troops heavily smoked cigarettes, and, of course, most everyone carried lighters. C-Rations meals included matches, but they were useless during the monsoon season. Soldiers had their Zippo lighters engraved with a variety of slogans and acronyms; many being personal messages or a dedication to someone back home. Lighters carried in the breast pocket of a fatigue jacket had been known to stop a bullet otherwise destined for a soldier’s chest.
One superstition involved the lighting of three cigarettes from a single match. When more than two soldiers required a light, a new match was struck after the second cigarette was lit. To vary that routine in any way was considered a sure harbinger of misfortune.
One man I served with stored a six-pack of beer along with his personal belongings in the rear area storage connex upon his arrival in-country. It was his second tour, but he considered this six-pack his lucky charm – something to savor after surviving twelve more months in-country. Unfortunately, after transferring to another unit, someone raided his duffel bag and pilfered his “special talisman”. Subsequently, on his first mission after eight months in-country, he tripped a booby trap and tragically lost both of his legs. Coincidence, or not?
The mountain people of Vietnam, referred to as Montagnards, hated the VC and NVA soldiers, and the ARVN who discriminated against them and bullied them. They were great fighters, but a superstitious lot. Many of them treasured simple items such as stones, or pieces of wood and metal, revering them as talisman. Items hung from their necks, ears and waists, but those dangling items made a lot of noise when humping through the jungle. A story was told of a Green Beret adviser, who, early in the war, ordered all those tribesmen on the mission with him to leave their noisy charms behind. Reluctantly, they complied with the order. Later in the mission, this same patrol walked into an enemy ambush and lost most of their troops, along with the SF advisor. You can guess how this event was perceived back in the village, and then how the account was passed on to others.
It was difficult to debate religion; most everyone believed that their faith in a God would protect them from evil. Many did not want to take sides when the Catholics, Baptists, and Lutherans argued over which was the true religion. However, there were always proclaimed atheists in every group; many had the fortitude to stand up and take on everybody else. They usually didn’t last long in those debates before the group expelled them. The next day, all was forgiven, and everybody reunited with their brothers-in-arms. Most of us fervently believed that there was no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole during a fire-fight. In fact, this was the time that God received bunches of new recruits and promises to never miss a future church service or elude the donation plate.
Many argued that luck had nothing to do with their survival, and instead attributed their successes to training and overcoming fear.
As a final comment about luck and survival: During my year in Vietnam, I evaded the Reaper on four different occasions; each should have resulted in my untimely death. I tripped two booby traps; one failed to detonate, and the other resulted in only minor shrapnel wounds to my arm. I tripped the wire of an American mechanical ambush with four Claymore mines; enemy soldiers had discovered it earlier and removed the blasting cap, then forgot to re-arm it before leaving the area. I survived a bite from a highly poisonous Banded Krait snake. Finally, when walking point, I watched an enemy soldier shoot directly at me from a short distance away and he very fortunately missed me. An answer to prayer? Karma? Luck from my talisman? Good training? That will depend on who is answering that question!
Dear Reader
Thank you for taking the time to read When Can I Stop Running?. Please consider taking a moment to leave an honest review on the site where you made the purchase. It need not be long – even the short reviews are appreciated and add to the book’s success.
After publishing my first book, Cherries – A Vietnam War Story, I set up a website where readers can leave comments, questions, and then view my personal photos from the war. Since then, it’s evolved into a site that many say is filled with a wealth of history about the Vietnam War. Visitors can access more than 200 articles, videos, photos, songs, and slang terms used during the Vietnam war era. Many attest that this website has been very educational, as new and returning visitors continue to learn about the conflict and its warriors. New articles are posted weekly. I will use this website for both of my books, and I welcome your feedback. Please take a moment to visit when you can (see address below).
Ordering information for Cherries is also available on this website:
http://cherrieswriter.wordpress.com/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Podlaski served in Vietnam during 1970 and 1971 as an infantryman with both the Wolfhounds of the 25th Division and the 501st Infantry Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division. He was awarded the Combat Infantry Badge, Bronze Star, two Air Medals, and a Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry.
Podlaski’s working career in the automotive industry spanned more than forty years, during which time he held various management positions.
John returned to college in the year 2000 and earned a Bachelor of Science degree in Business Administration, graduating Magna Cum Laude.
In 2010, Mr. Podlaski published ‘Cherries – A Vietnam War Novel’. The (e-book version) has remained within the top 100 in its category on Amazon’s Top Sellers list since its inception.
On January 21, 2013, PageOneLit.com named Cherries – A Vietnam War Novel
BEST AUDIOBOOK OF 2012
That was a proud moment for John Podlaski – who was also the recipient of the “Books and Authors Award for Literary Excellenc”. The e-mail notifying Podlaski that ‘Cherries’ won the top award for audiobooks included the following quote from one of the contest judges, “One HELL of a book!!!”
Mr. Podlaski is a life member of the Vietnam Veterans of America, Chapter 154. He and Jan, his wife of 43 years, both retired in 2013 and live in Sterling Heights, Michigan. When Can I Stop Running? is John’s second published book.
filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
When Can I Stop Running? Page 13