by JL Curtis
Cho laughed, and Som looked at them until Cho explained the joke in Thai; then Som burst out laughing, “John, I was going to ask if we could keep it, since it is evidence of the firefight and important piece of documentation when matched with the bullets from the Chinese guard. By the way, that was very good shooting!”
The old man shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t even remember shooting, much less how many rounds I fired. That was pure old hind brain running the meat sack; and if there was a conscious thought, it was long after it was all over. I can only remember thinking those women were way too quiet, and I would have been screaming my head off.”
“That reminds me, how did you know they were there? I know you had that little what…” Cho said.
“Oh, the temperature gun, it registers in tenths of a degree, and of the eight vans I checked,” the old man said. “That van was almost four degrees warmer than any others, and that included the two adjacent to it. That’s a trick I use for looking for Coyotes smuggling. Humans generate heat, and multiple humans generate a lot of heat compared to inert materials. It’s really simple, and it works about eighty percent of the time. The other way is weight. Look for the odd weight either too light or too heavy compared to the rest of the cargo; but that wasn’t an option here.”
Cho and Som both nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, we will add that to our techniques also John.”
At that point, the doctor came back in and chided Cho and Som in Thai and shooed them out like a couple of naughty children. Checking the old man’s vitals, he asked, “Have you exercised yourself today?”
“Uh, say what, doc?”
“Have you voided bladder or bowel today?”
The old man shook his head, but suddenly realized he really needed to piss; “Uh, how do I do this Doc, I know there is a hole in the bed, but…”
The doc laughed. “I help you up, you go piss like a man, standing up!” With that he picked the old man up like a baby and set him on his feet. Holding his arm, he reached for the crutches at the head of the bed. “They should be about right, please to take yourself to the bathroom.”
The old man hobbled to the bathroom, dragging the IV stand behind him and pissed for what seemed like minutes, then hobbled back to the bed. After a couple of tries, he figured out how to get back in bed, and did so with the doctor looking on approvingly. “Bladder only?”
“Yeah, doc. But I needed that.”
“You no void bowel by tomorrow, we do it for you,” the doc warned.
The old man nodded grimly as he laid back. The next thing he knew, the sun was shining in the window and Som was asleep in the chair. In the corner he could see his bags, neatly packed and stacked on top of each other. He leaned over and groaned as the pain hit his butt, which woke Som with a start, “Are you alright sir?”
“Sam, other than my butt, I’m fine, but I gotta go, and damn if I can figure how to get up.”
Grumbling, the old man got up with the nurse’s help and managed to lay back down after she flattened the bed out. The bandage was changed, and not gently, something cold and astringent that burned like hell was wiped on his butt, and a running commentary in Thai including laughter punctuated the entire evolution. When they were finished, he was stood up, and the nurses took his gown, gave him a sponge bath, again with much laughter and the old man caught Som blushing a couple of times, but there was nothing he could do. At his direction Som opened his bag and pulled out pants and a shirt that he didn’t care if they got ruined, and the nurses helped him dress.
As he was hobbling around, he thought to himself: damn, how am I going to get home from Pendleton? And how am I going to get… Shit… Fumbling in the night table, he dug out his phone and called Billy Moore, who picked up on the first ring. “Billy, I need a favor, can you get the Lear with Trey onboard to meet me at Pendleton tomorrow afternoon?”
Billy of course wanted to know why, and the old man answered testily, “Well because I got shot, okay? And if they can’t get into Pendleton, oh hell, no make it Carlsbad, I’ll get a ride over there, Okay? I’ll explain the next time I see you.”
Billy laughed and said he would handle it, and the old man decided to text Jesse rather than calling her. He basically sent that he would be home late tomorrow evening and he would call when he got in. Minimal details were a good thing sometimes!
Cho came in with Hearns and the confirmed everything was on track, and chatted for a few minutes until it was time to take the old man to the roof for the ride back to Utapao. Cho shook hands saying, “John I’m truly sorry you got shot, but I cannot express either my or my government’s appreciation for what you’ve done to help us. I owe you one my friend.”
“No biggie,” the old man said. “I’m just glad we got those women back, and the drugs were just a bonus as far as I was concerned.”
Cho nodded, and Hearns said, “We’ve logged your participation and it’s been pushed back to Hoover, and the Deputy, so I don’t expect to hear any ramifications. This one goes down as an atta boy.”
The old man shook his hand. “Well, it didn’t quite go as planned, and I’m going to hold you to keeping those Marines out of trouble. And I’m not planning on coming back anytime soon! I lived through two sets of exciting times, and I sure as hell don’t want a third!”
The old man went to shake hands with Som, only to have him say he was accompanying the old man to Utapao. The old man replied, “Ah, Sam, babysitting to the end, or making damn sure I get on the airplane?”
Som grinned and everyone else laughed; but he didn’t answer.
The nurses efficiently strapped the old man face down on a small stretcher and briskly maneuvered him to the roof, where what appeared to be the same SH-60 and pilots awaited. One more round of handshakes, and he was loaded aboard, strapped down. An hour later they landed at Utapao and taxied to the same remote ramp, now seemingly half filled by a grey USAF C-17. The crew chief and Som got the stretcher off the helicopter and the old man demanded they let him off the stretcher and hand him the crutches. Shrugging they complied, and the old man hobbled over to the aft ramp of the C-17 with Som carrying his bags. A pretty young USAF Sergeant met him at the ramp, asked his name and checked him off the manifest. She whistled, and a male loadmaster came over and took his bags aboard, so the old man turned to Som, “Sam thanks for everything, and I hope to hell you get some down time after this. I know babysitting is not fun, but I truly appreciated the assistance, and I hope Joe takes care of you for this!”
Som laughed. “Sir, the pleasure was mine, this was truly a learning experience!”
The old man said, “Yeah, in how not to do things!”
Som shook his hand and trotted back to the helo that had now restarted its engines. As he climbed aboard, he turned and waved one more time before the hatch was closed. The old man looked around and was trying to decide what to do, when he saw Lieutenant-Colonel Betts and a green beret standing near the small building at the side of the ramp. Looking at the Sergeant, he asked, “How long before we launch?”
“At least an hour,” she replied. “We’re waiting for the Marines and their lift is a half hour out.”
That made the decision for the old man and he hobbled over to the building. As he got there, a second Marine came around the corner from the parking lot, and the old man saw that he was a full bird colonel, he also realized the Green Beret was a full bird too. Lieutenant-Colonel Betts came to attention and saluted the Marine Colonel, and all three turned to the old man. Lieutenant-Colonel Betts introduced him to Colonel Wojokowski, the Defense Attache; and then to Colonel Able, the battalion commander for the Marines in the exercise. Colonel Able was frowning and started to say something when Colonel Wojokowski said, “Just call me Wojo, and Betts tells me you’re one of us.”
The old man dug out his coin, and handed it to the colonel, “Let me guess, colonel, Tenth Group?”
He laughed as he handed the coin back. “The name gave it away, right sir?”
Colonel Able l
ooked on curiously, so the old man handed him the coin. “Well, that and the tenth flash and bout half way round the world from your AOE, so it was pretty easy. I’m glad to see nothing’s changed in the Army.” Wojo laughed and nodded at that.
Colonel Able handed the coin back and asked, “Were you in Nam?”
“Yeah, three times,” the old man said. “Once, a year with the Yards, sitting on the trail. Sixty three to sixty five.”
“So you were in the shit then?”
The old man nodded. “Yep, neck deep a coupla times. Colonel I want you to know your Marines did a helluva job of bailing my tired old ass out on this little op they got drug into.”
Colonel Able nodded. “That is something I’d like to get a little more info about, if you don’t mind.”
Colonel Wojokowski nodded. “Me too.”
The old man’s bland recital of the operation had both of the colonels glancing at one another more than once, and both read between the lines that this was an old warrior. They both asked a few questions, and decided it had been a win for the good guys.
The old man decided to start for the airplane and the three officers walked with him, as they got to the airplane, a CH-47 taxied down and turned into the ramp area. Colonel Able said, “This must be my sick, lame and lazy ones.” This generated smiles around, knowing that he was joking to cover his worry over his men.
The young loadmaster pointed the old man to the top of the ramp and he hobbled up slowly to be met by an older female nurse with colonel’s insignia on her collar. “Where do you think you are going mister?”
The old man politely responded, “I’m one of your patients for the ride to Pendleton, and I just need to sit down if you don’t mind.”
To which she said, “No you’re not buster, we don’t haul civilians, this aircraft is reserved for military only, specifically Marines, so turn your butt around and get off here.”
The old man whistled loud enough to catch the young loadmaster’s attention and motioned for her to come where they were standing. She trotted over and asked, “Yes, sir?”
“Would you please show the colonel the manifest with my name on it, she doesn’t seem to believe me,” the old man said.
A young Lieutenant nurse stopped in front of the old man. “Sir, are you our last patient?”
Chuckling, the old man replied, “Well, there seems to be some discussion of that right now.”
Shaking her head, she added, “Well, in any case, you need to get over here and sit, because you look like crap. Now come with me.” She led him over to the last stretcher on the bottom tier, and he lay gratefully on his side. She got him a bottle of water, and quickly took his vitals.
Both colonels came strolling back down the cargo area, and Wojo mimed scoring one, which got a smile from the old man. Colonel Able asked, “Is there anything you need?”
The old man almost said no, then remembered he was going to Pendleton. “Yes sir, is there a way to get a message to Gunnery Sergeant Matt Carter at Pendleton? I’m going to need a ride to Carlsbad airport and he’s the only one I can think of.”
Able nodded. “Carter that runs the range at Pendleton, that Gunny Carter?”
The old man nodded, and Colonel Able snapped his fingers. “Cronin, wait a minute, is your daughter the one that fucked with my snipers?”
The old man chuckled. “Actually my granddaughter, and I think there was a Colonel Ortega involved in that, from what I heard.”
“No problem,” the colonel said. “I’ll get a message to him to meet you. Travel safe Mr. Cronin, and enjoy the flight, I don’t think we’ll have, or you’ll have a problem with the Dragon Lady as you called her.”
He shook hands and moved off to talk to each of his Marines. Colonel Wojokowski squatted by the stretcher. “I told that old bag that if you weren’t on the airplane, it wasn’t leaving. Period. She started squalling like a stuck pig, until I called the poor captain that’s the aircraft commander down and told him the same thing. He told her he would be happy to get the command post on the horn and let her explain why they were still sitting here. Well, I need to go raise some more hate and discontent, so you travel safe, and thanks for makin’ us look good! DOL sir, DOL.”
The old man stuck out his hand. “Thanks, colonel and DOL, even if I’m no longer active.”
The colonels left, the aft ramps closed, and the C-17 taxied out and lumbered into the air. Six hours later, they landed in Guam for gas and food; two more pilots came aboard, and they started the next leg, seven more hours and they landed at Hickam Air Force Base in Hawaii, cleared customs and immigration, and everyone but the patients got off. An hour later, refueled, re-crewed, and with yet more box lunches, they departed for California; five hours later, they touched down at Pendleton.
35 The Reception
As they taxied in, the nurses and medics started prepping the stretchers for transport, and the loadmaster cracked the aft ramp, letting in a blast of cold air. That woke the old man up, and he wondered where his bags had gotten to; waving down a passing medic, he asked him to send over the loadmaster.
“Sergeant, I have a suitcase and briefcase somewhere on this airplane, and I’d really like to get my jacket out of the bag if you can find it.”
The loadmaster smiled. “Yes, sir, I was told where they were, and I’ll get it for you right now, before things get busy.”
The old man managed to get most of the way up, and was able to sit leaning on the healthy cheek as the loadmaster returned with his bags. The old man slipped the jacket on, and finally got his crutches unstrapped from the stretcher. The airplane finally stopped and the engines wound down as the loadmaster finished opening the aft ramp and dropping it to the ground. The old man looked out to see a line of ambulances advancing on the airplane and idly counted them, then counted again and wondered if one of them was for him. He saw a group of Marines come up the aft ramp and reached down for his bags, trying to figure out how he was going to do this.
He looked up to see Matt standing in front of him grinning. “Shot in the ass?”
“Ah, gahdammit, I am gonna shoot somebody for that. Hello, Matt and thanks for meeting me.”
Matt laughed. “Well, from what I’ve heard, you should consider yourself lucky that was all that got shot. Felicia is here too, apparently Angelina called her to come check on you.”
The old man rolled his eyes. “No damn privacy as soon as the women get involved! Do you know if there is an airplane at Carlsbad for me?”
Matt nodded. “Big black guy named Trey? He’s standing with Felicia right now; they wouldn’t let them on the ramp.”
“Okay, so how is this going to go down?”
“Well, I talked to the corpsman, you’re going in the last ambulance, he’ll stop by Operations and pick up Trey and Felicia and I’ll go get my truck and follow y’all to Carlsbad.”
“Oh shit. That means every damn woman in town is going to know what happened, and Jesse and Juanita are going to give me a ration of shit as soon as I get home. I should have stayed in Thailand.”
Matt shrugged. “Well, all I’m gonna say is I’m glad you’re not coming back in a box.”
The old man nodded, and the medics told Matt to move he was in the way. They quickly and efficiently pushed the old man back down on the stretcher and carried it quickly to the last ambulance. Matt picked up the bags and followed them, putting the bags in the side door and reminded the corpsman to stop at Ops for Trey and Felicia. The corpsman nodded and Matt trotted toward the parking lot to get his truck.
The corpsman drove slowly off the ramp and stopped for Trey and Felicia to hop in. Trey was all business. “Dammit John, did you forget to duck again?” As he quickly took the old man’s vitals, poked in various places, and grabbed his lower legs and pulled his socks down and held both legs in his hands.
“Dammit, Trey, your hands are cold! What the hell are you doing?”
“Checking for distal pulse and temperature. Were you really shot in the ass?”
Felicia giggled when she heard that saying, “Oh, Mr. Cronin, I’m sorry to laugh. I know it’s not funny but…”
The old man snorted. “Hell, Felicia, it seems like everybody and their damn brother knows, so yes, I got shot in the ass. There! You two happy now?”
Trey rumbled his usual laugh. “John, it’s not like you’re going to be able to hide it, and I told Jesse to go pick you up a rubber donut at the pharmacy. You’re going to need one when you get home, so shut up. Now details; where, how, how long before treatment? What do you remember about the hospital treatment? Did they give you any paperwork? Or am I totally going to have to guess here?”
“Pick one,” the old man said. “First you tell me to shut up, then you ask twenty damn questions. Check the briefcase, there’s an envelope in there that’s probably the treatment stuff. I hope you read Thai.”
Trey let go his legs, pulled the socks back up and rifled through the briefcase until he found the folder. Meanwhile, Felicia sat on the side of the stretcher and grabbed the old man’s hand, “One thing is for sure, it didn’t help your temper as usual. I don’t see how Juanita and Jesse put up with an old grouch like you.” But she said it with a smile.
“You know Doc Truesdale and Angelina will be meeting you to take you to the hospital and she wants me to call her with any requirements.”
The old man rolled his eyes and said, “Damn women, y’all just won’t leave a man alone will you?”
Felicia chirped, “Of course not, without us you would still be grunting and digging in the dirt for your food.”
Trey rumbled and the old man finally laughed.
“Okay, I give, I give.”
Trey poured through the medical records, and whistled. “Three pints of blood? Damn, John, you almost bled out, and I’m amazed they let you out of the hospital this soon! What the hell, was there any on scene treatment?”