Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel

by Phyllis Zimbler Miller

  "What should we do now?" Sharon asks.

  "Let's talk to Kim together," Wendy says. "Show her she has friends."

  KIM – IX – JULY 3

  Senate rejects, 52-47, proposal to affirm president's authority to retain troops in Cambodia if he considers it necessary for protection of U.S. troops in South Vietnam ... June 11, 1970

  “... as a military wife, never insist that a friend tell you about her husband.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet

  Kim lies on the bed staring at the ceiling.

  On the drive home Kim had been aware of what was going on, but she said nothing to Sharon. Kim’s clothes stuck to the back of the car seat as the heat pressed against her. She thought of the World War II movie she'd once seen. The one – was it "The Bridge on the River Kwai"? – where the British officer is imprisoned in a solid metal cage as punishment by the Japanese. Afterwards Kim had been haunted by the image of the officer crammed in the small dark cage, the blazing furnace of heat pressing against him.

  She imagined herself trapped like that. No air to breathe. No way out.

  Kim knew Sharon wanted to ask "Why?" Did Sharon say nothing because she was being polite or did she dread hearing the answer?

  Kim couldn’t even answer herself. Did she mean to take all those pills? She could remember an intense headache, a headache that sent pain flashing through her entire body. She walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, then into the bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet seat, opening the cap, then what?

  When they reached Kim’s apartment Sharon stopped the car. "We're home," Sharon said.

  The nausea flashed through Kim’s body, more powerful than the headache pain. Home! They weren't home, they weren't even close to home.

  Her head throbbed as Sharon opened the passenger car door for her. She accepted Sharon's offer of an arm to lean on.

  "I'd like to lie down," Kim said as they stepped into an apartment almost as broiling as the car.

  Sharon guided her onto the bed, then stooped to take off Kim’s shoes and swing her legs up. Sharon closed the bedroom door behind her.

  Kim heard the doorbell ring in the living room. Her stomach twisted. It was too early for Jim to come home, wasn't it?

  A few minutes later Kim heard the doorbell ring again.

  Now Kim waits for whatever will happen next. She can’t think about who might be here and what Sharon may be doing. Kim has to save all her energy and worry for when Jim gets home. He'll never be able to understand, to forgive her weakness. Maybe he will finish what she started.

  The door to the bedroom squeaks open and Sharon comes in, followed by Donna and Wendy. So Sharon called for reinforcements. An entire army can't overrun Jim's anger.

  "Mind if we sit on the bed?" Sharon asks. Kim shakes her head.

  Sharon glances at her watch, then says, "We have a few hours before the men get home. We can work this all out among ourselves and the men need never know."

  Not tell Jim? He'll know. He'll see it in her face.

  "Can you tell us about it?" Donna says. "Tell us why you took all those pills?"

  Why she took all those pills? Kim looks at the picture of her parents, the frame without the glass. The photo as unprotected as she has been all her life. Yet that's going too far back.

  "Jim's volunteering for Vietnam."

  All three women gasp. "Vietnam!" Sharon says.

  "I want to go home," Kim says. "I just want to go home."

  Wendy picks up one of Kim's hands. Kim thinks to pull back her own hand – a black touching her in such a familiar way. Then she stops herself. Wendy is her friend. Friends touch each other.

  "I know how you feel," Wendy says. "I miss home all the time." She turns to the others. "Living in the South is different. It's more ... something. I feel protected there. Safe."

  Protected. Kim nods that Wendy understands. At home Kim is accepted for who she is. Even if she comes from white trash, at least she knows who she is and what's expected of her.

  "Has Jim officially volunteered or has he just made up his mind?" Sharon asks.

  Kim says, "I think he's just decided."

  There is silence. Then Kim understands. "You think I did this to get him to change his mind?" She shakes her head. "I really don't know why I did this. I certainly didn't think it would change his mind. Nothing will."

  Tears form. She shakes her head again. She will not cry now. It can't help.

  "What about postponing his decision?" Donna asks. "Why not just go on to your first permanent assignment? Let Jim see the real army before he volunteers to go to Vietnam?"

  Kim hesitates. "He's punishing me. He thinks I'm looking at other men."

  The three faces can't have been more shocked. Maybe Sharon's is less shocked, because she knows about the ... jealousy.

  Wendy says, “That doesn’t make sense. If he’s in Vietnam you’ll have ample opportunity to be with other men.”

  Kim says, “He only sees that he’s punishing me with the one thing I dread the most.”

  Sharon says, “Maybe we can convince him that you only have eyes for him."

  Kim shakes her head. Sharon doesn’t know Jim.

  SHARON – XIII – July 3

  Supreme Court rules, 5-3, a person is entitled to conscientious objector status if he sincerely objects to all wars ... June 15, 1970

  “An afternoon tea is one of women’s greatest pleasures and should be well planned with details given great thought.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet

  "Bonnie's pregnant," Sharon says that evening after Robert has changed out of his uniform. "My mother said Mrs. Morgen called all excited. Bonnie's due in January – around the same time as Donna."

  Sharon thinks about Bonnie’s wedding last summer, a year after she became engaged. That means Bonnie would be married a year and a half when the baby was born.

  "Very nice," Robert says. He doesn't look up from the “New Yorker” magazine he’s picked up off the imitation-wood coffee table.

  "Robert, when I talk to you, I want you to look at me," Sharon says.

  Robert comes over to her. "What's wrong? You seem jumpy tonight."

  "Jumpy? Why would I be jumpy?"

  "Is it your time of the month?"

  "You mean my period. No, it is not."

  "Then what's wrong?"

  "Nothing besides you're an officer in the U.S. Army and there's a bloody war going on halfway around the world in some country most people can't even locate on a map!"

  Robert hugs her. "I've told you everything is going to be all right."

  "What makes you so sure?"

  "It's Bonnie's pregnancy, isn't it? You're jealous, right?"

  Sharon pulls away. "I AM NOT JEALOUS. It's just ... it's just that I want the option of having a baby now. Instead my life is dictated by the army!"

  Robert shrugs. "Donna's having a baby and her life is dictated by the army too. The army doesn't stop you from having a baby."

  "The war does! Donna knows that Jerry can get out of going to Vietnam. You don't have an exemption!"

  She runs into the bedroom and throws herself on the hideous brown cotton bedspread. Robert lies down beside her and recites:

  Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Admit impediments. Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  "You're quoting Shakespeare again."

  “Sonnet 116.”

  O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wandering bark,

  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

  Within his bending sickle's compass come;

  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

  But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

  If this be error, and upon me proved,

  I never writ, nor no ma
n ever loved.

  Robert reaches for her undies.

  Minutes later, his chest rosy, Robert traces the outline of her breasts.

  “We talked about our decisions today,” Robert says. “You know, what we’re going to officially respond on Monday.”

  “And what did everyone say?”

  Robert laughs. “Remember loud-mouth Geist.” He pauses, waits for her nod. “Always shooting off his mouth about how Southern officers are the best soldiers, the most patriotic, the stars.” His fingers brush around her nipples.

  “Today he announces he’s going to go vol indef. Says he wants the chance to see Paris before serving in Vietnam. Truth is, he’s no more eager to get his butt shot off than the rest of us. He’s all talk.”

  “What did Nelson, Jerry .... and Jim say?”

  “Jerry’s taking vol indef. He wants to go to Europe.”

  “Maybe they’ll be stationed with us,” Sharon says. “You did tell him you were going vol indef, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Nelson?”

  “He wants to apply Regular Army so I’m not sure how that works with vol indef.”

  Sharon’s fingers twist the sheets. “And Jim?”

  “Not going vol indef. Says he has no interest in living in Europe with all those foreigners. Wants to do his two years and return to his hometown.”

  Sharon waits for Robert to say Jim plans to volunteer for Vietnam. When Robert says nothing, Sharon climbs out of bed. Perhaps Jim hasn’t said anything.

  “I have to get ready,” Sharon says. “Kim and Jim will be here after dinner.”

  An hour later, Sharon stacks the playing cards on the table. The evening has been carefully orchestrated, and Robert will be as unwitting an actor as Jim. “All the world’s a stage and ...”

  The doorbell rings. Butterflies circle insider her stomach as if on opening night of a Broadway play.

  Jim says hello and Kim nods. "I'm glad Sharon asked you over tonight," Robert says. "Now let's play bridge."

  Robert shuffles the cards and Kim cuts to him, her face pale. Did she manage to get through supper without letting Jim see how upset she is?

  Sharon, Donna, and Wendy talked and talked to calm Kim down. Then they formed a plan. It has a chance of working, with a little finesse.

  Sharon waits until the second hand, the first being won by her on a bid of three spades. "I'm getting excited about living in Europe," she says, laying down a three of clubs. "Robert says we'll probably be sent to Germany. He knows some German, so that should be good."

  Jim turns to Robert. "You've definitely decided to go vol indef?"

  Robert lays down his five of clubs. "It makes the most sense at this time."

  Neither Jim nor Kim says anything.

  After another time around the table Sharon asks, "What have you guys decided?" She doesn’t look at Robert. Is he wondering why she’s asking Jim if Robert has already told her Jim’s decision?

  Kim studies the dummy's cards. Jim tosses a card down and says, "I'm going to volunteer for Vietnam."

  "Vietnam!" Robert says. "You can't be serious."

  Thank you, Robert. We thought that's what you'd say. Yet Robert's shock had to be sincere; they couldn't risk coaching him.

  "This is a chance to do something for my country," Jim says.

  Sharon hesitates; her words can’t seem rehearsed in any way. "Do you have to make the decision now?” she says. “Or can you wait until you're at your first assignment and see what you think then?"

  Robert nods. "That makes more sense," he says. "At least you'll get a feel for the real army, not just the student army."

  "What makes you think I’ll change my mind?"

  "Look, pal, it's your funeral," Robert says.

  Sharon glances at Kim. Her expression doesn't change.

  "I don't see why you can't wait," Robert continues. "It won't make any difference at your first assignment."

  "Kim, what do you think?" Sharon asks.

  Kim's voice can hardly be heard. "Whatever Jim wants. He's the head of the family and he makes the decisions. I just want to be with him."

  Not too much, just right.

  Sharon doesn't look at Jim. She says, "It sounds like the two of you have a strong foundation together. If you wait to make your decision until your first permanent duty station, then you'll be better informed."

  Jim throws his cards down. "I don’t need anyone’s advice!"

  **

  Sharon trembles after Jim and Kim leave the apartment. How can Jim be so pigheaded?

  Robert kisses her. "Has Jim's decision bothered you that much?"

  Sharon wants to share with him, she really does. Yet she's worried that Robert might let something slip to Jim. Instead she says, "I was up for a pleasant evening. How about going to the Officers Club for coffee or something?"

  Robert checks his watch. "We can go over for a little while."

  Nancy Sinatra sings "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'" as Robert drives towards the post. Sharon fingers her purse strap. If Jim wants to volunteer for Vietnam, Kim will have to accept his decision. She'll have to wait for his return. And pray.

  Sharon herself doesn't know anyone who's been to Vietnam. Her sorority sister Debra told her that two Jewish men from her small Illinois town served in Vietnam. One was newly married. The entire year his wife would come with his parents to Friday night services at the synagogue to pray for him. And as a radio operator he could sometimes connect with ham operators around the world who would arrange for him to talk to his wife. At least for those moments she knew he was alive.

  The other Vietnam soldier was his cousin, a twin. "While one twin served as a medic in Vietnam, his brother served a hellish time in Bolivia in the Peace Corps, never sure when he went to bed at night if he would wake up in the morning," Debra said. "At least the brother in Vietnam knew who the enemy was. His brother in Bolivia didn't; he slept with his gun the whole time. And he didn't tell his mother until he was safely home."

  Then Debra went on to say, "The twin in Vietnam did a heroic act. He had finished his tour. He was safe. Just before he left his firebase an urgent call came for a medvac. There was no medic available. He volunteered to go out one more time. And came back alive."

  Would Jim come back alive?

  As they approach the entrance to Ft. Knox, the MP motions for Robert to stop the car. This surprises Sharon. Since Robert attached the student sticker on his car, neither she nor he has been stopped at the entrance.

  The MP approaches Robert's side of the car. "Step out of the car and open your trunk."

  Robert obeys.

  She sits in the car, her palms twitching, the minutes forever. Then Robert returns to his side of the car and slides in.

  The MP leans in at the window and salutes him. "Sorry, sir."

  Robert starts the car.

  "What happened?"

  "Earlier tonight a whole load of rifles was stolen from a warehouse on the post. The MPs are stopping cars and checking for the rifles."

  Sharon laughs. "How would rifles fit in the Fiat's tiny trunk? And why did he apologize to you?"

  "Because," Robert says as he drives towards the Officers Club, "they are stopping only enlisted men, not officers."

  "Only enlisted men would steal the rifles?"

  "Officers are gentlemen."

  Sharon stares at Robert.

  "Because of my student sticker the MP didn't realize I was an officer – just like at the picnic. If he had, he wouldn't have stopped me. That's why he was apologizing."

  How outrageous! More evidence of the army's rigid division of officers and enlisted men into a class system. It's the same as those college campuses where not being in a sorority or fraternity means you are forever and ever on the outside. Untermenschen. And treated as such.

  "Robert," she says, then stops. Tonight she wants to pretend all is right with the world.

  KIM – X – July 3

  Vice President Agnew calls
8 anti-war critics, including Democratic senators Kennedy, Fulbright, and McGovern, "advocates of surrender" ... June 20, 1970

  “Do not attempt to give a tea unless you have a lovely cloth for the table and a tea service.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet

  Kim brushes her hair in the bathroom after returning from Sharon and Robert’s apartment. The curls flatten as she snags the brush through them, then spring up as she releases the bristles.

  While Robert and Jerry go to Ft. Holabird next for MI training, Nelson's assignment is Ft. Hood in Texas and Jim's is Ft. Jackson in South Carolina. Once back in the South, if Jim hasn't already committed to Vietnam, her friends, yes, her friends, think he might change his mind. Besides, they said, in time he would get over his jealousy.

  Kim trembles. Even if by some miracle Jim doesn't volunteer for Vietnam now, he is likely to be assigned a Vietnam tour during his two-year commitment.

  At the Officers Club one night Kim overheard a pilot talking to one of his buddies. "I met this lieutenant on an in-country R and R on an island off Nam. One night his platoon takes fire from a friendly village. The next morning he goes into the village and complains to the head guy. The head guy said it's not happening. The second night the lieutenant loses a couple of men and two others have to be medvaced out. He goes back to the village and the head guy says no again. The third night two more men are wounded by fire coming from the village. The next day he goes into the village and kills everyone – men, women and children."

  She wasn't thinking of that story when she took the pills. Nor had she been thinking of the story about American POWs she'd heard once at church choir practice before she'd met Jim. "Hell, the Vietcong don't even follow the Geneva convention," the man said. "They torture 'em, then kill 'em."

  Maybe all these stories are in her head, demanding to be noticed. And acted upon?