Scars and Stars

by Dustin Stevens

  “Twice throughout the day Marks made his way down the line, asking us how we were doing and telling us it was only going to be a short while longer. His own leg had swollen again and he was limping. I could see a heavy bandage wrapped tight around his thigh and he winced often as he walked. Benny made the mistake of asking him about it once, something that earned him a severe tongue lashing in response.

  “Nobody asked again.

  “By nightfall on the second day, we had made it just past the Zanti River. Marks had told us earlier that’s where we were going to bed down for the night, and I spent most of the afternoon sniffing the air for the scent of river water. So intent was my search that I didn’t notice the rest of my group stopped until I was a good ways past them.

  “Roberts! Where the hell you going?” Marks hollered out. “You going to take them slant eyes on all by yourself?”

  “It took a moment for the comment to register and I could hear men chuckling. I stood rigid at first before softening up and laughing along with them.

  “I was on my third chuckle when the branch beside me exploded.”

  My uncle again paused for a second, cleared his throat and began anew.

  “There were almost fifty yards between me and the rest of the unit, but from where I was it looked more like five hundred. I melted straight down into the ground and worked my gun into a firing position as the trees seemed to spit bark around me.”

  My eyes grew wide. “How many of them were there this time?”

  My uncle cast a sideways glance at me and shook his head. “Only one.

  “From where he was perched, the shooter couldn’t see the rest of the unit. To him it looked like I was out scouting alone and he could score an easy kill before dark.

  “Many of the men saw me fall to the ground and burst out laughing. They must have thought I tripped because they hollered and called me all sorts of names. It wasn't until a few more bullets ripped into the trees that they gathered what was happening and grabbed their rifles to come help.

  “As soon as they did, Rollins was there to call them back. Kept telling them it could be a trap, a single gunner firing to lure more out into the open. He was of course right, but that didn't help me much. I was under the cover of trees, but if I moved so much as a foot in either direction I would have been exposed."

  I furrowed my brow and looked up at him. “So what did you do?”

  My uncle held up his hand and smiled with the corner of his mouth. “Have you ever seen homemade camouflage?”

  I wasn’t even sure what camouflage was, but I was pretty sure I’d never seen my parents make it before.

  “Camouflage is the stuff you see on soldiers on TV. You see it when your daddy goes hunting; sometime you even see it on the side of cars and trucks out on the road."

  He paused again and looked at me. I now knew what he was referring to, but I must have still been wearing the look of confusion on my face.

  "Well, never mind that just yet," he said. “I lay there on my stomach for over ten minutes, each round coming a little closer to my head. I wanted to curse and yell for my men to do something, but I didn't want to give away my position. The sniper already knew where I was, no use in helping him pin me down any further. Instead, I stayed quiet and prayed that the bullets would stop.

  “And then they did.

  “Lieutenant, what’s going on?” I asked, certain it was some sort of trap.

  “I don’t know,” Rollins called back. “I was just about to send Peters and Bloom out to find the bastard when it stopped.”

  “Well if you didn't get him and I didn't get him, why'd he stop firing?" I asked. I was certain this must be another trap, but I didn't want to say the words.

  “Because I got him," said a familiar voice from the gathering darkness behind me. “And I’m coming in, so everybody hold your fire.”

  “I knew the voice in an instant and rolled to face it, though I hardly recognized Jack as he emerged through the trees. His face was wrapped in some sort of black cloak and he had stripped off his jacket. Greasy soot covered his arms and I couldn’t see him until he was just a few feet from me.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” I asked.

  “Call me your guardian angel,” Jack said with a half smile and stuck out his arm to help me up. The whites of his teeth showed bright against the soot on his face as I accepted the help to my feet.

  “No seriously, where the hell did you come from?” Rollins asked, approaching from the opposite side.

  “Jack looked at the ground, then raised his head and exhaled. “Lieutenant, I did as you said and got my head cleaned up. Soon as they were done, I kind of faded into the background and lit out after you all.”

  “Rollins nodded his head upward. “So you went AWOL?”

  “Jack grimaced. “Yes sir.”

  “Rollins spat and turned away for a moment. “By all rights I should write you up and turn you over to military police. At the same time, you just took out a sniper and saved an officer's life. What say we just call it even and agree to never disappear like that again?"

  “Jack nodded. “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

  “Rollins nodded at him and passed his eyes over Jack. “Now again, where the hell did you come from?”

  “Sir?”

  “Rollins motioned at Jack and said, “You look like shit and smell worse. You’re covered from head to toe in mud and you managed to somehow outshoot an enemy sniper. Anything you care to share?”

  “Most of the men had gathered in tight to listen, nudging me a little closer into the circle. Jack glanced my way and said, “Following your orders, I stayed behind to get my face looked at. I was in better shape than most, so I spent the first half of the day helping as much as I could. That’s what most of the smell is from.

  “Some time mid-afternoon, one of the medics pulled me aside and took a look. By then my face had swollen even further, so digging out the metal took a little more effort than either one of us liked.

  “All told he pulled out seven pieces of shrapnel, said there was probably more in there but we'd have to wait until the swelling was gone."

  “A murmur went up from the crowd, but Jack continued on in his matter-of-fact style. “When he was done, he handed me some ointment and gauze, went on to other soldiers in need. I put them both on my head and as soon as I thought nobody was watching, I lit off through the woods.”

  “Damn, didn't they drug the hell out of you?” Buddy asked from the crowd.

  “Jack’s eyes shifted to him. “Nope. I told you boys I’d be back by nightfall and I knew I wouldn’t make it if I was doped up.”

  “Jack turned his attention back to Rollins and said, “You guys leave a hell of a wake behind you, so it wasn’t hard picking it up. I stayed a few dozen yards off of it the whole time just as precaution, wasn’t long before I came across that sniper’s trail. Picked you guys up just past the ravine and tailed you here. I could tell by his patterns and movement that he was alone and traveling light.

  “As far as this," Jack continued, motioning to his head, "I dumped my canteen on the ground and smeared the mud on my face and arms. Took the bandage off, soaked it in the mud, then put it back on.”

  “Good way to get infection,” Rollins said.

  “Better than having a bright white target bobbing through the woods,” Jack said. “After that, following the guy was easy. He was sloppy, no doubt thought he was alone. I got to within a hundred yards of him when he started firing, unaware I was behind him. He didn't even know I was there until he felt my knife."

  “Rollins snorted and said, "So you're saying you didn't outshoot an enemy sniper? That instead you snuck up and gutted him without him hearing a sound?"

  My uncle chuckled. “Jack stood there and looked at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out why Rollins sounded surprised. “Uh, yea?”

  “A few whistles went up from around the group and a couple of the men coughed and muttered ‘bullshit’ under their brea
th.

  "Jack never stood for being called a liar and a small flash of light passed behind his eyes.

  "The body is still laying over there if you want to check it out,” he challenged.

  “Everybody stood quiet after that, not real sure what to do next.

  “Alright men,” Rollins said, “let’s get back to what we were doing before all this commotion started. I want sentry outposts every hundred yards. Two men per post in four hour shifts.”

  “The group stood for a few more seconds before drifting away. When we were clear, I turned to Jack and said, “You saved my ass for certain. He was zeroing in on me in a big way.”

  “Jack snorted. "If I had known it was you he was firing at, I’d have taken my time putting him down. As was, it was quick and painless.”

  “As we talked, a man with a medic’s insignia made his way over to us. He stuck out his hand as he approached and said, “John Persyn, company medic. I understand you're the Roberts boys?”

  “We each shook his hand in turn and he added, “Couple of modern day heroes from what I hear.”

  "Jack and I shot a quick glance at each other and I said, "More like repeat customers for you I'm sure."

  “Persyn laughed and pointed to Jack's head. “Heard your story. How about we get that bandage off your head and get that wound cleaned out.”

  “Both of us dropped down on a felled tree as Persyn unwrapped and cleaned Jack’s head. The swelling was still pretty significant and the bruising heavy, but Persyn said he was lucky to avoid infection. When he was done, he held up the filthy bandage and asked, “You want to keep this as a souvenir?”

  “Jack just shook his head and pointed to his face. “I think I’ll have plenty of souvenirs right here.”

  My uncle turned his shoulders and glanced back up at the house. “Turns out they were both right. Jack still has his souvenirs from that day etched across face, but we couldn't very well stick those in the album. Instead, Jack went out into the woods and made some more homemade camouflage, just the same way he did all those years ago."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The sun was just starting to slide down in the sky when my uncle finished telling me about the sniper. The world was at peace around us, the only sounds being water lapping up onto the sandbar and tall grass rustling in the breeze. Several long minutes passed and I could see the fishing boat make its way to the far corner of the lake and start working back towards us.

  The air was shattered by the sound of my father’s shrill whistle and on instinct I jumped to my feet to see what was wrong. I must have been hidden by the tall grass because as soon as I took my feet, my father waved and returned into the house.

  I took my seat again in the sand as my uncle looked at me and laughed.

  “That night we slept little, if at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those bullets getting closer and closer to me. Poor Jack had even less of a chance than I did, his head throbbing beneath the new dressing.

  “We figured somebody might as well get some rest, so just after midnight we took over a sentry spot. We spent the rest of the night leaning against either side of tree, silent and staring out into the darkness.

  “When the first streaks of dawn appeared we headed back to camp and found the place already busy. Men were running back and forth, fires stamped out, packs hitched into place.

  “What's going on?" I asked a man running by. "We got a bead on their position?”

  “Visitors coming, just found out,” he said over his shoulder and kept on going.

  “Jack let out a low whistle and said, “All this commotion, you’d think Truman himself must be stopping by.”

  “Hell, I’d almost prefer to see him out here,” Rollins said from behind us. He walked up between us and we stood three across watching the camp scramble things together.

  “So who is it?” I asked.

  “Who you think?” Rollins said. “Our fearless leader has decided to grace us with his presence.”

  “We each turned and looked at him.

  “Please tell me you don’t mean Williams?” I muttered.

  “Rollins made a face. “Yep, sent a runner out here this morning. Said he'd heard we were running into fire and wanted to come give us a hand. Show us how this was supposed to be done.”

  “Aw hell,” Jack muttered. Rollins and I both nodded our heads in agreement.

  “A few seconds passed and Rollins spat at the ground. “You boys better get your gear packed up, we head out as soon as he gets here. Should be any minute now.”

  My uncle snorted and shook his head. “Rollins was right. Williams showed up ten minutes later and we rolled out less than two minutes after that.”

  Contempt rolled from my uncle’s tongue as he said, “That cocksure bastard strolled into camp like he was G.I. Joe himself. Every so often he’d point out a pack that wasn’t done to regulation or a fire that needed a little more dousing. Like he'd ever spent a single day in the field and had any idea how things were done.

  “What made it even worse was the South Koreans stood in awe of him. Once he knew he had an audience, you’d have thought he was Bob Hope.”

  I had no idea who Bob Hope was, but I remained silent and let him continue.

  “The Americans were a different story though. We paid him his due by saluting or doing as he said, but there was a terse silence to our movements. Faces were hard and jaw lines were set tight as we listened to what he said.

  “Once camp was broken in a way that satisfied him, Williams called for us to move out. Wasn't five minutes after that we started running into problems.

  “Given the terrain of the land, we had been marching in a formation that was two long lines, staggered rows with sentries posted on our flanks anywhere from fifty to one hundred yards out. We used this formation because it kept us spread out a little bit and best prepared us in case of ambush. Our flanks were always covered and we could still move with some reasonable degree of speed.

  “Williams didn’t like it though, especially as the trail pinched inward a bit. We weren't a half mile down the path when he called for a halt to the entire thing. Pushed everyone into a single file and removed over half the sentries. The remaining sentries he brought in so they flanked us by about twenty yards."

  My uncle dropped his head and twisted it angrily from side to side. “It didn’t take long for Rollins to object and for the other officers to join him. We were near the end of the line and were only hearing piecemeal information, but from the sounds of things it got ugly in a hurry.”

  “So what did they do?” I asked, for the first time in a while grasping the situation.

  “The longer they debated, the madder Williams got. Ended up pulling rank and saying his orders would be followed or everyone would be court martialed for insubordination.

  “Everyone was mad about it, but there wasn't anything they could do. Instead, we stayed in a single file and stomped through the woods. Jack was behind me, Buddy in front, Benny in front of him. The sun crawled higher in the sky and sweat trickled down our bodies beneath the weight of our gear.

  “You think we’re going to stop anytime soon?” Buddy asked over his shoulder as we plodded along.

  “Hell if I know,” I grunted, sweat dripping from the end of my nose to the ground.

  “Naw,” Jack said from behind me, “Williams is on a power trip. He’s all pissed somebody questioned his orders and hell-bent on proving he was right."

  “Damn fool’s going to get us killed, you ask me,” Buddy said. “Walking through the woods single file like this with a handful of sentries. Koreans could squeeze right in on us and we wouldn't even know it.”

  “We each shook our heads in frustration and continued forward as the sun passed from overhead on down towards the horizon. Wasn't until late in the afternoon that we stopped.

  "To the man, we all dumped our packs and collapsed to the cool dirt floor of the forest. Men drank the last of their canteens or smoked cigarettes, others tried in v
ain to fan themselves.

  “Before long we saw Marks and another Sergeant working their way down the line towards us, stopping every so often to talk to a huddle of men before moving on again. By the time they got to us, they both looked plenty mad.

  “First of all, I don’t want to hear any bitching. This isn’t our plan and we let him know that,” Marks said, raising his hand in front of him.

  “We all exchanged glances that meant this can’t be good, but said nothing.

  “The trail ahead runs through a ravine. About eighty feet down on this side, at least that much back up the opposite,” said the other sergeant, a thin man with a shaved head named Byrnes. “Captain Williams has decided we will follow the trail.”

  “Several groans went up from around us and a man behind me asked, “How big we talking? Couldn’t we just go around it?”

  “Marks shook his head. “Looking at maybe a mile down and back. Williams doesn’t want to lose the time.”

  “If the ravine doesn’t kill us, exhaustion will huh?” Benny asked.

  “Neither sergeant answered. They didn't have to. Instead, they looked at one another and moved on down the line.

  “I finished the last of my water and fell flat onto my back. I clamped my thumb and forefinger down over my eyes to keep sweat from running into them, pressing so hard bright lights formed behind my eyelids. Jack dropped himself to the ground beside me and I could hear the metallic clang of his canteen as he took water.

  “That’s when the call went up that it was time to get moving again.

  “With everybody spread out in the woods, somehow we’d ended up pretty close to the front of the line, maybe a quarter of the way back. With an audible groan everybody retook their feet and started forward when shots pierced the air. They sounded like twigs snapping underfoot, the sounds ringing out one right after another.

  “Moving from tree to tree, we covered the last few hundred yards to the front of the line. Why we did that I have no idea, but at the time it just seemed natural.