the Last Run (1987)

by Leonard B Scott

  Yeah, but sendin' that broad over and sneakin' out pissed him off. We spent two hours lookin' for you, and it took everything I had to hold him off you when you showed up."

  Rose smiled slyly. 4 That chick I sent over was hot, wasn't she?"

  Thumper tossed down the rag. "That was the ugliest woman I ever saw!"

  "Shit, man, Russian ain't no Hollywood star his own self! The chick was hot to trot!"

  "Yeah, well, she had her hands in my pants more than I have in a month. She grabbed Russian's dong and nearly ruined him when he jumped up from the table."

  Rose fell to his knees with laughter. "Man, I was only trying to help the old bastard. He'll understand, man. No sweat!" He looked around the camp, still chortling. "Where is he anyway?"

  Thumper motioned toward the TOC. "The platoon got orders to move to An Khe today. Gino has got him loading some radio equipment on air pallets. He'll be back soon enough, and he'll be lookin' for you."

  "Man, Russian will forget everything by the time Gino gets finished with him,'' said Rose none too convincingly as he glanced over his shoulder toward the operations center.

  "Yeah, well don't be so sure. You'd better start packin' your gear. We're going out on the first C-130 that comes in."

  Sergeant Gino, carrying a folding chair, stomped out of the TOC so mad he couldn't speak. He'd stayed up most of the night because of the late call from Childs telling him about the move to An Khe. Childs had told him that two C-130s would be arriving at 1300 hours to move them out. He, Gino, had stayed up and written a complete, detailed loading plan to include time schedules for packing, moving equipment, and loading. The plan was a masterpiece of organization and textbook scheduling. He'd called in his sergeants and team leaders at 0800 and briefed them about the entire loading sequence and gave them a copy of the schedule so they could coordinate and systematically move men and equipment without confusion. The load-out was going to move like clockwork.

  Then, 1000 hours, just five minutes ago, the Air Force Operations at Vung Tau had called and blown up his entire plan and all his late-night hard work. The two C-130s that were supposed to come in at 1300 weren't coming-mechanical problems. But good news, said the airmen. They had two other birds for support. They'd be in even earlier. One would be in at 1100 hours and the other at 1200 hours.

  Gino set his chair down and sat ten paces in front of the operations center so he could see the base camp and airfield. Murphy's Law must have had the Air Force in mind, he thought.

  There was no time to rewrite the plan now. He had to do what all good NCOs did at times like this: holler, kick ass, and get the impossible done.

  A Ranger strolled out of his tent one hundred meters away. Gino stood up and bellowed. "You! Come here!9'

  The soldier changed his direction and began walking over. Gino put his hands on his hips. "Move your ass!

  Gino recognized the soldier, who had one of those 'what have I done now' looks on his face, to be one of the newer men.

  Gino pointed to the tents behind the soldier. "Hawkins, I want you to run into every tent in this base camp. You will tell every team leader, assistant team leader, and every man over the rank rf Spec-4 to report to me in five fucking minutesl Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sergeant."

  "Move it!

  LZ English Headquarters, 173rd Airborne Brigade

  Lieutenant J. D. Gibson entered the deputy brigade commander's office wearing new jungle fatigues and a Silver Star medal pinned to his left pocket flap. He came to a halt and saluted smartly. "Sir, Lieutenant Gibson reports as ordered."

  A gray-haired colonel wearing glasses low on his nose stood and reached across the desk.4 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Gibson. I'm sorry I didn't attend the awards ceremony, but I can hardly get away from this desk any more."

  Gibson quickly dropped his salute and shook the colonel's surprisingly strong hand.

  "Sit down, son. First, I want to say you did a helluva job as a platoon leader with Bravo Company. Your platoon alone had more kills than six of our rifle companies last month. Most important of all, you did it with very few casualties. That's a sign you're a helluva trainer as well as leader. Congratulations on your Silver Star."

  Gibson only nodded. The office seemed uncomfortably stuffy to him after having lived outside for six months.

  "One more thing." The colonel smiled. 4'Lieutenant Gibson, because of your outstanding performance, I'm sending you to Nha Trang, where you will be replacing my liaison officer to Corps Headquarters. This will both enhance your career and benefit this brigade."

  Gibson knew he should say something but he didn't know what the hell a liaison officer was. He stammered for a moment and finally offered, "Thank you, sir." Then he allowed his stone- faced stare to fix on the colonel's forehead.

  The deputy commander got up and held out his hand again.

  "Lieutenant, I expect good things from you down there. You talk to my S-l across the street and he'll explain your duties. I understand you'll be leaving this afternoon, so good luck to you."

  Gibson shook the colonel's hand again and was about to turn away when the colonel asked, "Did your hair turn in the field or is it natural?"

  "The field, sir," Gibson replied, impatiendy. He wanted out of the stuffy office.

  "Well, Lieutenant, don't worry about it. I've had gray hair for twenty years myself."

  Gibson forced a smile and exited the office quickly. The battalion commander had mentioned his prematurely gray hair, too, and so had everybody else who knew him before he went to the field. He looked thirty rather than twenty-three years old.

  He walked out of headquarters building and pulled off the medal. He felt naked without his ruck or weapon, and the new fatigues felt uncomfortable. "Don't mean nothin'," he said to himself as he crossed the street to find out what the hell a liaison officer was.

  Nha Trang Corps Headquarters

  Colonel Bob Ellis nodded as he walked past the G-l's Vietnamese secretary, then turned into Colonel Rite's office. The rotund Corps personnel officer looked up from his desk in surprise and rose to his feet. "What are the intelligence spooks doing in my part of the world? Is one of my secretaries suspected of spying?"

  Ellis forced a thin smile and sat down without being asked.

  Rite bristled beneath his hospitable exterior. Ellis was a junior colonel and knew better. He'd been assigned to Corps only three weeks before, but he was already one of the general's fair-haired boys, and he was flaunting the relationship.

  Ellis drummed the arm of the padded chair with his fingers as he got down to business. "Charles, we have a problem. It's been brought to our attention that our replacement policy for the Corps Ranger Company isn't working well. In fact, it's in shambles. As far as I can tell from written past policy, the company is supposed to draw a few new men from in-country arrivals, but the majority are to come from veterans in the 173rd Airborne Brigade.

  "Major Shane, the company commander of Sierra Rangers, tells me they haven't received veterans from the 173rd in over four months. The situation could be construed as almost criminal, especially based on the recent casualty rates of the company."

  Rite's face flushed in anger. This son of a bitch Ellis was telling him he wasn't doing his job! The damn West Point junior colonel had said our policy when he damn well meant his, the G-l's, policy!

  Ellis stopped his drumming and casually looked past the G-l toward the window. "Charles, I know this was probably just an oversight on our part, but we need to get the Rangers back to full strength immediately."

  Ellis's eyes shifted from the window to Rite and locked on. 4 4We need to call the 173rd today and ask for one hundred men. They should be volunteers with at least four months experience. They'll report to An Khe in two days."

  Rite smiled smugly and shook his head. 4'That's impossible. I could get a few men in a couple of weeks, maybe, but not a hundred. It's out of the question. I know this Ranger Company works for you, but there are a lot of other prioriti
es. As personnel officer for this Corps, I have to allocate resources to everyone as best I can."

  Ellis sighed wearily and pulled a folded piece of paper from his fatigue shirt pocket. He unfolded it slowly for effect and momentarily glanced over the contents before looking up at Rite. "Charles, I called the 173rd G-l an hour ago and explained our situation. He's an old friend, by the way. He was one of my company commanders in '67. He tells me he can put a message out to his units and have a hundred volunteers with no problem. As you know, the 173rd is in a pacification role, so all he needs is a call from you and a backup message later. He says he can have the men in An Khe in two days with no problem.

  And about priorities .... I have here a memo signed by the general that says the highest priority of this Corps is intelligence gathering.'' Ellis stared at Rite.4 4That means my Rangers. I think you'd better make the call to the 173rd. They're waiting to hear from you."

  Rite felt like throwing the heavy ashtray on his desk into Ellis's smug face, but he took in several quick breaths to restrain his anger and not show his emotions. His authority had been usurped, but he knew Ellis had him by the balls. He, Rite, had consciously ignored the replacement policy of the Rangers, and if Ellis brought the situation to the general's attention, there would be one personnel officer out on his ass-especially after the general had made that statement about high priorities. Shit, there was nothing to do but play ball and hope to regain strength in another inning.

  Rite softened his expression and raised his brow in conciliation. "Sure Bob, I'll call them today and send the message first thing tomorrow. The general will want to sign it himself, won't he?"

  Ellis stood up. "Of course. Just have it on my desk by 0700, and I'll see to it. Thank you, Charles. I knew you'd appreciate the situation and take positive action. I'm sure the general will appreciate it, too."

  "I'm here to help," said Rite, burning holes into Ellis's back as he walked out the door.

  Colonel Ellis glanced down at the blank piece of paper in his hand and smiled as he passed by the secretary.

  Phan Thiet Third Platoon Base Camp

  The base camp was in turmoil. Sergeant Gino had people running around and packing gear everywhere, trying to meet the earlier flights. Team 3-1 was still scheduled to fly out on the first bird, so they had to get their gear to the airfield as soon as possible.

  Thumper had called the hospital to tell Wade about the move, but he'd already been flown out by med-evac to Bien Hoa Air Base. The orderly had promised to pass on the information as soon as Wade returned die following day.

  Thumper finished packing Wade's gear, hefted the bags to his shoulder, and began die 300-meter walk to the airfield. He didn't feel the weight of the heavy bags. His mind was on the all too familiar base at An Khe. The thought of returning there brought back many painful memories.

  He'd said good-bye too many times in An Khe. Grady, his first team sergeant and close friend, had rotated home from there. Mary Ann, a Red Cross worker who had lived in a compound close by, had said good-bye there, too.

  Mary Ann, especially, had taken a piece of his heart when she transferred to Saigon. She was a woman he could have held onto for a lifetime. Since then she had written many letters, but somehow he couldn't put feelings on paper to reciprocate. He sat for hours thinking of her, but he couldn't bring himself to write a single line. Finally, about a month ago, her letters stopped coming. He shut his eyes to stop the emotions that made his knees feel weak. He missed the tall, raven-haired woman who had made him feel so good, and he missed the old team he loved. Of Team 2-2, three had been wounded in Cambodia, and two had rotated home. That left him, the last original member.

  He opened his eyes and took a deep breath for strength. When he'd been moved to Matt's team three months ago, he had found a new home, and Russian, Rose, and Matt had taken the place of the others, but his old friends would always have a special place in his heart.

  Thumper tossed Wade's bags onto a pallet and returned to the tent. He quickly stuffed his belongings into two duffel bags and began to walk back to the airfield. Sergeant Gino saw him and yelled for him to come to the TOC.

  Thumper cussed under his breath and walked toward the sergeant, who still sat on his folding chair directing the load-out.

  Rose lay back on his rucksack behind a tent, hiding from the watchful eye of Gino. He had just dozed off when a powerful, hairy arm clamped around his neck and jerked him up. Russian pushed him away, causing him to fall over his rucksack. Rose rolled to the ground and sprang to his feet to meet his attacker.

  "You do not follow my orders," Russian growled. "You make me a fool."

  Rose immediately lowered his fists and began backing away from the approaching huge soldier.

  "No man, I was just . . . No, Russian, shit, man, back off. I ... I ..." He spun around and ran screaming, "Thumper!" . . . Thum-per!"

  Thumper stood up at the sound of the bloodcurdling scream and smiled as Rose ran straight for him. Russian, followed by his dog, chased Rose at a slow lope.

  Rose skidded to a halt behind Thumper and Gino, and pointed excitedly toward the advancing bull.

  "He . . . he's gonna kill me!"

  Thumper sat back down and shook his head. "I told you he was pissed."

  Russian halted a few paces in front of Thumper and glared at Rose.

  "I teach the crazy one a lesson."

  Thumper sighed. "Carl, I understand how you feel, but we'd just be another man short. Besides, Sergeant Gino here needs a detail man to load out equipment."

  Rose whined, "Aw, shit, Thump."

  Thumper ignored the remark. "Why don't you and Bitch go on down to the airfield," he said to Russian. "We'll be in An Khe in a little while, and we'll get to chose our bunks while lover- boy is still working. He won't be in until this evening."

  Russian grunted and lowered his eyes to Thumper. "He will not work. He just talk."

  Gino stood up, offended. "The hell he will! I'll make him sweat!"

  Satisfied, Russian threw one last cutting stare at Rose, then went to the tent to collect his equipment.

  Rose fell to his knees with a pained expression. "Damn, Thump, you can't do this to me, man."

  "You're staying, or I'll let Russian have you."

  "Shit, man, you messin' with me and . . . and I got a slight problem."

  Thumper's eyebrows raised slowly. "Yeah?"

  "Well, I tried to piss awhile ago and ..."

  Thumper shook his head with a sigh. "You'd better get to the medics before they pack up their penicillin. What happened to the stateside rubber?"

  "Aw, man, she wanted me now, you know what I mean?"

  Thumper, trying to contain his laughter, gave an exaggerated nod and pointed to the medics' tent. "Move out and get your shot. You got work to do!"

  Rose got up, mumbling. "I swear, man, you try to help a buddy, and he done gets hos-tile. You try to be nice to a lady, and she gives you the clap. This world is fucked up, man."

  Bien Hoa Air Force Base 433rd Wing Hospital

  Sergeant Matt Wade had arrived that afternoon at Bien Hoa, wearing a sling. He had his X rays taken, but there were no flights scheduled back to Phan Thiet until the following morning, so he was ordered to a convalescent ward to wait.

  As soon as he saw the ward he knew he wasn't going to like it. A short staff seigeant in hospital whites grinned when he noticed the lanky buck sergeant wearing camouflage fatigues and black beret.

  "You're just the man I've been looking for," said the ward master as if he was eyeing a new slave. "You're not leaving until tomorrow, so today you're mine. You'll be in charge of getting this ward, and the next one over, cleaned up. You'll have nine men. All are able to walk or push a broom. You'll find mops and brooms at the end of the hall."

  Wade glared at the staff sergeant with disgust. "And what will you be doing?"

  The ward master smiled smugly as he stood up from his chair. "I'm going to a USO show at the air base-you just gave me the ticket." His
smile dissolved into a serious frown. "Don't make any trouble, Sarge, or you'll be doing this for a week. I can have you scheduled for a reexamination based on my observations. That should take at least another day or two, and I can keep doing it until I'm tired of you. Now, you just do the job and you'll be gone tomorrow."

  Matt had seen his type before. They were in control of their litde world and could deal misery and woe to their captives. The bastard held all the aces. Matt made a mental note to one day make a special trip back and finish the conversation. He held back his anger and resigned himself to be cool. "Where's the detail?"

  The ward master smirked as he walked for the door. "Next door. And Sarge, make these floors shine."