The remaining two days went by in a flash of fun. Mayumi and I met for each meal. We discovered that we both had an appreciation for science fiction, although she liked Captain Janeway more than Captain Picard. That was a nasty argument. Janeway? Really? We visited a place called the Urban Jungle, where we went through a series of rope courses. This was probably the highlight of my R&R. I had gone through the Victory Tower obstacle course during training a lot. Probably because I kept screwing it up a lot. Compared to the tower, the Urban Jungle was a breeze. It was a lot of fun, and I managed to not screw it up. I actually looked like I knew what I was doing. You can see why it was the highlight for me. I took her to the Ego Boost Pub one night. It turned out that Mayumi could shoot whiskey with the best of them (while I sat there drinking my special soda). Ginger declared her “a keeper!”
I agreed. I could never have hoped for a more enjoyable trip. I should have known better than to think it could stay that way. It was the morning that I was going to fly back to the Hiss. Mayumi and I were taking a walk down the street. I was carrying my duffle bag and figured I would catch a taxi farther down the road just to eke out a few more minutes on the longest (and virtually only) date of my life. Mayumi had reached over and taken my hand, an action that stopped my heart for a few minutes. Hey, holding hands meant something, baby. Boy, I wish my mom hadn’t played so much eighties music when I was a kid. We finally made it to a corner, and a cab was sitting there. Out of excuses, I had the driver open the trunk and put in my duffle bag. Standing next to the open cab door, we started to say our goodbyes. “Thank you for putting up with me, Miss Ogawa.”
“It’s the least I can do for a superhero,” she said giggling.
“You aren’t ever going to let me forget that lie, are you?”
“That’s my current plan.” She took both of my hands in hers. “If you have any questions about the night vision gear, please contact me. Or if you are going to be near me again. Or if you would like me to be near you.”
Have you ever had one of those moments that you look back on and realize it was too perfect and was bound to get screwed up in some way? I have a lot of those. It is sometimes the most succinct way to describe my life. I should have known to leave right then. I know it would have spoiled the moment and would have not been the movie ending that everyone would want, but it would have been the safe thing to do. Naturally, that isn’t what I did. Feeling as bold as I ever had, I decided to try and kiss her. Mayumi obviously felt the same and decided to kiss me as well. She was significantly shorter than I was, so I leaned low to compensate. Mayumi rose up on her tiptoes for the same reason. I overcompensated. In a rush of nerves, fast movements, closed eyes, and stupidity, I missed her lips and instead hit her nose with my forehead. That’s right, kids, your father’s first real date ended with him head-butting the woman he was trying to kiss. Now, if your schoolmates start making fun of your father, you can join in with all-new material.
I managed to catch my flight, but just barely. I was late because we had to take Mayumi to a clinic. They confirmed that her nose was broken. I could never tell if she was mad at me or forgave me, because she couldn’t stop her eyes from watering and she wasn’t in a very talkative mood. I’m sure I apologized a million times before she gestured for me to leave so that I wouldn’t miss my flight. As soon as I could, I looked for a card to send her to apologize for what had happened again. It turns out that I was actually able to find a situation that no one had ever made a greeting card for. I didn’t take any more R&R for the rest of my time in the army. It seemed safest for everyone involved.
And the war drums beat on . . .
җ
Despite what could generously be called a disastrous ending, I was still feeling pretty good when I returned from Australia. I took a nap on the ride to Camp Wildcat. The countryside was familiar to me now, and even the questionable driving skills of the soldier at the wheel couldn’t surprise or frighten me anymore. I knew that I snored. I knew that it was much louder than the engine and road noise. I didn’t care. I had been in-country for longer than him, so he would just have to live with it.
I knew as soon as we got near Camp Wildcat that something had happened. Everything looked exactly like it should. There was just something in the air. It was like a dark cloud on a completely sunny day. As soon as I got into camp, I went to find the Professor to let him know that I had returned. I found him in his tent. The dark cloud wasn’t just hanging over the camp. It seemed to be hanging over him as well. “Welcome back, Pup,” he said with little enthusiasm. “I hope you had a good time. You might want to go say hello to your squad. I think they’ll want to see you.”
That very cryptic suggestion made me concerned about the squad. I ran as fast as I could to the tent, threw open the wood-framed door, and tripped over the frame on my way through. I looked up from the floor and noticed everyone watching me. Upon closer inspection, I realized that almost everyone was watching me. One familiar face was missing. “Where’s Nickel?” I asked from the floor.
There was silence for a moment. Finally, Rabbit spoke up. “Nickel was hurt. He is in an evac hospital in Japan.”
I had just barely managed to get into a sitting position when Jethro got up from his bunk and walked out, stepping on my hand as he passed. He did it on purpose, too. He’d had to change his stride in order to step on my hand. I was too surprised to register any pain. Leaving my duffle bag where it was, I got up and went after Jethro. I found him behind the mess tent. He wasn’t crying, but his face was certainly haunted with pain. “Jethro, what happened?”
“Nickel hit a booby trap.” Jethro’s voice was strong but almost a monotone. “He saw a trip wire and stepped over it, but a second, chest-high wire was spaced so that he hit it after stepping over the first wire.” He stopped and pulled out a hip flask. He took a long pull from it before continuing. “Right after the explosion, there were a dozen tangos waiting to ambush us. We beat the hell out of them, capturing three as prisoners, hurting four, and the rest were killed. Had to wait until we beat those shit-kickers before we could get an angel in to take care of Nickel.” I finally heard some emotion enter his voice, and I realized that I liked it better when he was speaking in monotone. “I put a call in to the evac hospital. They say he’ll probably lose his left leg and maybe his arm, too.” I reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he slapped my hand away. “Get away from me, city slicker!”
I was really confused. I’d just gotten back. I hadn’t had time to screw anything up yet. “Jethro, what did I do wrong?”
“You weren’t there!” he shouted at me. “We were out on patrol and you were off in Australia being as useless to us as tits on a bull!”
In earnest, I was already feeling guilty about that fact. I knew I shouldn’t. Everyone took R&R, and everyone needed to. I had been on patrols when some of the others had been away. I knew that logically I shouldn’t feel guilty, but life isn’t logical. “I wish I had been there, Jethro. I don’t know what I could have done though. With as clumsy as I am I probably would have tripped every booby trap in the region.”
Almost snarling, Jethro replied, “That would have been fine by me! At least Nickel wouldn’t be the one in the hospital!” Ouch! That hurt. “Instead, you go traipsing off to the Outback to find some Aussie hussy.”
“Actually, I ran into Mayumi Ogawa there.” Now why did I tell him that? Did some part of me think he would really care? Maybe I’d been yelled at so much I wanted to remember what had made me feel good previously. Maybe I don’t have a filter installed between my brain and mouth. Regardless of the reason, it was a useless piece of information for the moment.
Jethro let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, that’s so much better. Instead of an Aussie hussy you went out and found yourself a Japanese slut. I hope her ass was worth Nickel’s arm and leg!”
I’m not prone to extreme anger. I tend to help people through problems, and I insist
on keeping all of my actions well-thought-out. Granted, my thought process makes very little sense to anyone else or even to myself, but there are thoughts involved. This time, my thoughts appeared to be somewhere along the lines of Screw that! He just pissed me off! Before I had given it a second thought, or even a first thought, I punched Jethro in the face. If I had done that prior to joining the army, he would have laughed. I mean, he would have honestly, audibly laughed. Even after I had joined the army, a punch from me would have probably just earned a chuckle. Months of being the FNG had changed that. I had been lugging around that squad automatic and all of that extra ammunition for so long that I had finally started to put on some muscle mass, and my punch showed it. Jethro’s hip flask went flying, and he hit the ground. It was probably more from shock than from impact, but he hit the ground nonetheless, and my anger-addled brain wasn’t going to let him recover. I got one knee on his chest, grabbed his collar with one hand, and began punching him with the other. “I didn’t hurt Nickel! I miss him, too! I would’ve taken his place if I could! I never saw her booty!” Don’t ask me why, even when blinded with anger, I couldn’t make myself use the word “ass” when talking about Mayumi. Damn, those manners are like the world’s most pervasive psychological conditioning.
I had hit Jethro three or four times. His lip was split and bleeding, and it looked like he was going to have a black eye, but it was obvious that he still had plenty in him to fight if he wanted to. He didn’t. He just sat there looking up at me. The red haze that had clouded my vision cleared, and I lowered my fist. Jethro just lay there as I took my knee off of his chest and went to retrieve his hip flask. When I returned, he was sitting up and looking at me, but there wasn’t any anger in his face. He was just looking off into the distance, like he was watching a bird flying all the way to the horizon. I stayed quiet and didn’t interrupt his thoughts. “Nickel had the worst taste in music,” he finally said. “He would play that rap shit so loud in his headphones that it was all I could hear in my bunk. He hadn’t ever been fishing. He hadn’t ever been hunting. Hell, he hadn’t even been to a county fair. Only plant he’d ever seen was grass.” Jethro was shaking his head, like he couldn’t believe everything that he was saying. “How the hell did he wind up becoming my best friend?”
I chanced putting a hand on Jethro’s shoulder again. This time, he didn’t slap it away. “Nickel’s alive. He’s going to get to go home. He survived. That’s what’s important.”
“He’s going back to that pit he grew up in. The only thing that kept his family alive out there was the fact that nobody ever taught those gangbangers how to shoot. How is he supposed to survive out there with one arm and one leg?” Jethro finally looked at me, and the tears in his eyes were obvious now. “I was gonna take him huntin’ for mule deer when we got back home.”
I decided to take a risk with my response. “You still can. And I bet with one arm and one leg, he’ll still be a better shot than you with a hunting rifle.”
I saw Jethro’s hand go back, and I prepared to receive a beating. Instead, I got a playful punch in the arm. “Why is it that I just took a whoopin’ but you’re the one talking like you’ve lost your senses?” I saw the corners of his mouth creep up, just a little. “You’re right. He did survive. When I saw that explosion, I thought we were all gone. Damn miracle he made it out at all. I think I’m just worried. He’s gonna make it home. I’m just hoping that I’ll make it home to take him on that huntin’ trip.”
I reached out a hand, and we pulled each other up. He reached for the hip flask, but I didn’t hand it to him. “I think that you’ve probably had enough of this for now.” I opened the flask to pour it out, but the scent that escaped caught my attention. Casting an inquiring glance at Jethro, I took a sip from the flask. “Wait . . . isn’t that . . . grape Kool-Aid?”
Slightly embarrassed, Jethro snatched the flask from my hand. “It reminds me of home,” he muttered. He started walking off but stopped after a couple of steps. He didn’t turn around but instead looked up at the stars for a moment before saying, “I’m glad you’re back, Pup.” Then he did turn around and looked at me. “Never saw her booty?”
Blushing brightly, I walked past him. “No, I didn’t try to see her booty either, jackhole.” Even though it was at my expense, it was great to hear his laughter as I returned to the tent.
Passing the torch . . .
җ
It was only a couple of days after I returned that a replacement for Nickel showed up in the camp. He was about my age and . . . honestly, I didn’t care a whole lot about who he was at the time. The important thing was that he was new. That meant that he was the FNG. Yes! A padawan! That was all that mattered to me. The Professor walked him into the tent early one morning. “Good morning, folks. This is your new grunt. He is brand new to the Hiss. Meet Shaggy. Shaggy, your squad.” With that, the Professor left so that the low-intensity hazing could begin.
I took a look at Shaggy. He was tall and skinny to the point of being scrawny. When I can say that, it is a pretty bad thing. Still, I could have thought of better nicknames than Shaggy. “So where are you from back in the world?”
“I’m from central California,” he responded, and I understood the nickname. His voice screeched like an owl. I suddenly realized that I didn’t want him anywhere near me when it was time to eat just in case he had an appetite that was anything like the character he was named for. I also couldn’t wait to go on patrol again so that I could relinquish the squad auto to the new FNG. My shoulders raised back up an inch or two with the thought of less weight.
I didn’t have to wait long before I was able to pass the torch. The next morning, we received word that a heavy bomber had been shot down. The crew had bailed out and rescue operations were underway, but there was enemy activity reported in the area and we were the closest unit. I handed Shaggy the squad automatic weapon and all of the accompanying gear without comment or explanation. I smiled inwardly. I don’t usually find joy in other people’s suffering, but I was willing to make an exception in this case. I grabbed a carbine, reveled in the joy of its lighter weight, and then ran to the bird that was waiting for us. It was a short flight. I still didn’t understand why the doors had to remain open, and I still didn’t like it, but I had learned to live with it. Shaggy looked as white as a ghost. I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging thumbs-up. I still remembered that feeling on the way to my first combat mission. I still felt that way. I had just gotten better at hiding it.
The helicopter hovered a few feet off of the ground, and we all jumped out. It never ceased to amaze me that we were able to do that without a lot more ankle injuries. We made it to the closest tree line and established a perimeter. Hannibal got out his map and compass and started checking our position. He didn’t trust using a GPS. He was convinced that if he ever decided to use one, it would be at the same time that the North Koreans figured out how to hack the satellites and send him off course. After taking a couple of readings, he called me over. I approached him with trepidation. He pointed to a spot on the map. “This is our LZ.” He pointed to another spot on the map. “This is where the bomber crew is thought to have landed.” He gestured over another area of the map. “This is where some enemy units are expected to be operating. We need to get between them and the crew.”
I always appreciated having a clue about what we were doing, but Hannibal had never informed me before. “Thanks for the briefing, but why are you telling me this?”
That’s when the other shoe dropped. “Because with Nickel gone, you are our new point man.” There is an old saying that if you aren’t the lead sled dog, then the scenery never changes. When you are a grunt on patrol, no new scenery is a comfortable thing. Being the point man didn’t just mean that I was at the head of the line. It also meant that I was supposed to be the one looking out for enemy soldiers, booby traps, land mines, and any or all other dangers or impediments that would keep us from getting
from Point A to Point B. Also, being at the head of the line meant that I was supposed to get us to Point B. I got lost in my own house once! And I was eleven years old when I did it! I now regret all of those times that I rushed to be the line leader in elementary school. It’s nowhere near as cool when you’re an adult.
I was going to bring up all of these objections, but I could see by the look on his face that Hannibal wasn’t in a talkative mood, and I knew that time was of the essence. I nodded and started moving in the direction of travel. Hannibal called for Jethro to follow me, or “take up my slack.” Jethro was supposed to watch out for me while I watched out for everything else. Although I was pretty sure that we were OK, I couldn’t help but remember how he had wished I had set off the booby trap instead of Nickel. I knew that he’d been speaking out of anger and guilt, and I knew that Nickel was his best friend and I was just another member of the squad, but it still kept a little worry tickling the back of my brain.
After about two hours we had covered the same number of miles. That was a pretty slow pace, but we happened to be walking through an area that was more densely forested than most of the rest of Korea, and there was also snow on the ground. The forest provided plenty of hiding places for North Korean troops or their allies, and the snow would help muffle any noises they would make. The same snow would also make certain that my squad left a trail behind us, so the tail-end Charlie and I were the two most nervous people in the entire Hiss. OK, Shaggy was more nervous. I know because even though he was in the middle of the squad, I could hear him shaking. It was cold outside, sure, but not cold enough to sound like your own personal earthquake. I wanted to try and help him through with some advice and comfort, but I had issues of my own at the time. The snow made it so that I couldn’t see what I might be putting my foot down on. Every time I snapped a twig I had a little heart attack.
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