Sand in the Wind (50 page)

Forsythe noticed a man already in his foxhole, and immediately realized it was Fuller. Out of curiosity and amusement, Forsythe walked towards the foxhole. Fuller stood leaning forward with only the top of his head protruding above the lip of the hole. He constantly shifted it from side to side while holding his finger on the trigger of his rifle. “How’s it going?” Forsythe asked in a purposely loud voice.

“Okay,” Fuller whispered.

“See anything,” Forsythe asked with mock concern and in an even louder voice.

“Not yet, but I’m ready,” Fuller answered in a whisper.

“Well keep up the good work.”

“You can count on me.”

While most of the men went to sleep expecting to be awakened by the sounds of rifle fire or incoming mortars, the night passed quietly, disappointing no one. Two more days went by without contact. Instead of becoming lax, the men became increasingly edgy. They felt that each day without contact merely increased the likelihood of it coming the next day. Their uneasiness was also heightened by the fact that they were now experiencing something they hadn’t expected.

The battalion moved out at dawn on the fourth day. They marched without stopping until noon. After a short break for lunch, Golf Company was left as security for H and S Company, while the other three rifle companies headed for the different places where they would make camp that night. Hotel set-in an hour before dusk.

Trippitt called together his platoon commanders in order to go over the daily plan that would be used for the next few weeks. They would move out each day at dawn and march until noon. One platoon would remain behind with the CP, while the other three went on separate patrols. They would return before dark; whereupon two of the platoons would send out ambushes, while the other two placed listening posts fifty to a hundred yards outside the perimeter. Before Trippitt dismissed his platoon commanders, he relayed the news he had just heard over the radio. The commander of Echo Company, his radioman, and one other soldier had been killed by a booby trap.

When Kramer mentioned this to Tony 5, his reply was, “We had him for a couple of weeks before we got Trippitt. He was almost as shitty
 
.
 
.
 
.
 
Too bad the other dudes got killed.”

“Seems kind of funny that they only got three men and one of them was the company commander,” Kramer mused.

“Not funny, just smart. It was probably a command detonated booby trap. The Gook waits till half the company passes, then pulls the cord to detonate the booby trap as soon as he sees a radio. Has a pretty good chance of bagging himself a lieutenant, maybe even a skipper. He just hit the jackpot this time.
  
.
 
.
 
. I wonder if they got him.”

Hotel Company continued to make camp in a different place each night. Ten days after leaving the battalion, they had still failed to make contact, or even to come upon any civilians. During that time, Echo Company had hit four more booby traps and Fox had hit two. Kramer was glad that so far they had been lucky, but he knew their luck couldn’t possibly continue. Each dawn threatened them with contact, and there was such a feeling of inevitability about it that he almost wished to get it over with. In addition to being edgy, his men were frustrated by the constant movement. They would set-in each night with the disgusted feeling that the next day at dawn they would again have to break camp, march all day, and set-in somewhere else. With nothing to look forward to, they became fatalistic and sometimes a little careless. All their actions seemed so meaningless, that they longed for that first bit of contact — picturing it as a fire fight, not a booby trap or a mortar attack — to prove to themselves that the physical torture of the marches and the discomfort of sleeping on wet ground were actually necessary. This was true even though they knew that their constant movement was as much for the purpose of avoiding the Viet Cong at night, as it was for seeking them out in the daytime.

The depression of the men was most obvious in Childs, and this surprised those who had known him longest. It wasn’t that he was more irritable, this being impossible; but rather, as Forsythe put it, he wasn’t “his old, sarcastic self.”

Dusk had just come on when Hamilton noticed Childs’s brooding figure sitting a few feet away from him. Hamilton slid over and said, “Well, we’ve been lucky so far.”

“Guess so,” Childs answered somberly.

“Every day without Charlie’s a lucky one.”

“Guess so.”

“What’s wrong with you, man?”

“What’s wrong with
you?
”

“Cut the shit. You’re the one looking like you lost your best friend.”

“Lost enough of them, haven’t I?” Childs answered gruffly.

“Bullshit, you never had one.”

Childs grinned as he lay back on the ground. “Guess you’re right.”

“I don’t know what you’re so down about. We’ve been through this before.”

“Who’s down?”

“
Oh,
I know.” Hamilton lowered his voice as he said, “It’s what happened on Charlie Ridge.”

“Hell no!” Childs answered truthfully.

“Then there
is
something wrong.”

“Maybe.” Childs paused for a long time before asking in a falsely casual manner, “Remember that Gook chick we saw with the napalmed face?”

“How could I forget? What a freak-out.”

Childs continued in a dreamy tone, making no attempt to belittle his own words. “I thought she was going to be so beautiful.”

“Me too. That’s why it was so bad.”

“You know, I bet she
was
beautiful
 
.
 
.
 
.
 
before that.”

Hamilton would have found it hard to understand why anyone would be lastingly affected by this incident, but such a reaction from Childs seemed even more puzzling. Incapable of handling the situation in any other way, he tried to sluff it off. “All them Gook chicks look alike.”

“Fuck you.”

Hamilton attempted to change the subject. “Look, I don’t know what you’re so down about. You’ll be going home before I will.”

“Not if you get blown away.”

This remark in no way irritated Hamilton. Childs was beginning to sound like his old self. “Besides, you can always think of a way to skate back to the rear.”

Childs again became serious as he said, “I’m tired of that shit.
  
.
 
.
 
. It’s too much trouble.”

“Too much trouble? It’s better than the bush.
  
.
 
.
 
. Hey, maybe your lump’ll get bigger.”

Childs rubbed the lump on his forearm and shook his head while saying, “It’s the same.”

“You’ll think of a way.”

“I shouldn’t have to. I’ve got two Hearts already.
  
.
 
.
 
. That got Delaney and a lot of other guys a job in the rear.”

“But both of yours were skatin’.”

“I can’t help it if I didn’t get my arm blown off. Anybody else and they would have sent him to the rear.”

“But you wouldn’t of went.”

“I would now.”

“Why don’t you say something to the lieutenant?” Childs thought about Kramer catching him and Hamilton in Da Nang, and he shook his head.

“You got nothing to lose.” Childs remained silent. “I mean he ain’t Lieutenant S, but he may be all right.”

“No!”

“Go ahead. You got nothing to lose.”

“All right.”

Childs found Kramer and Tony 5 talking near their foxhole. Tempted to turn around, he stared down at Kramer and said, “How come I didn’t get a job in the rear after my second Heart?” He’d asked this question in the only way possible for him to do so, by using a cocky, sarcastic tone.

Kramer’s first reaction was surprise. “Why didn’t you say something about this on the hill?”

“
They’re
supposed to ask me.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do now. I can’t just send you in.” Childs realized that this was true, but he continued to stare at Kramer. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll have the next man that goes to the rear say something about it to the company master sergeant.” Still unsatisfied, Childs realized that this was about all Kramer could do. He nodded and walked away.

After Childs had left, Kramer asked Tony 5, “How come they didn’t send for him?”

“It’s kind of fucked up the way it works. After two Hearts, they’re supposed to let you have a job in the rear — except officers — or if you want to, you can sign a waiver and stay in the bush.”

“He didn’t sign any waiver.”

“Well you don’t always have to. We’re about twelve men short, and they might figure we need every man we can get in the Arizona.
  
.
 
.
 
. It could be because both his Hearts were skating.”

“That shouldn’t make any difference. Who’s to decide how bad you have to be wounded?”

“I’ll tell you what the reason probably is. Childs has got a reputation for being a fuck-off, and they probably don’t want him.”

“I don’t see how they can do that. Besides, he seems to know what he’s doing.”

“He does. Next to Chief, he’s the best point man we’ve got. But that’s in the bush where you have to know what you’re doing. When things get slow, he can be a pain in the ass.”

Kramer remembered the incident in Da Nang, and realized Tony was right. “You seem to think they should keep him out here.”

“No. If he wants to go, they should let him.
  
.
 
.
 
. But I hate to see us lose anybody now, especially a good point man.”

“Is he the only man in the platoon with two Hearts?”

“No.”

“How many others are there?”

“Just one, I think.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“How come you’re out here?”

“I signed the waiver.”

“What’d you do that for?”

Tony hesitated before speaking; and when he finally did answer, he failed to mention the most important reason. “You have to take a lot of crap in the rear, real Mickey Mouse bullshit.
  
.
 
.
 
. One time we had about six guys that signed waivers. I think only one got killed.
  
.
 
.
 
. Kovacs had two Hearts.”

The next day the company broke camp at dawn as usual. It would again be a long march before they would set-in. Trippitt was more short-tempered than usual, and he constantly ordered the point to quicken the pace. It was after two o’clock when they finally set-in. Trippitt radioed their position to battalion, and then passed the word to “take thirty” for lunch.

Kramer and Tony 5 sat eating their C-rations with Charlie Squad when Ramirez asked Redstone, “What are you gonna do when you get out of the Crotch, Chief?”

Redstone shrugged his shoulders and Appleton said, “Go on the war path?”

“They’d have to pay me more money than the Crotch does.”

“Gonna stick around the reservation, eh?” Appleton joked while slapping Redstone on the back.

Chief realized that no slight had been intended; and he was so used to this type of remark, especially from Appleton, that it had little effect on him. Although Redstone seldom did much talking, he now had the urge to speak about the main thing he’d been giving thought to since joining the Marine Corps. “That land ain’t good for anything except fillin’ holes with. My oldest brother’s been workin’ on a cattle ranch in Texas for ten years. He knows a place we can get nearby for twenty-five thousand dollars. My two cousins and my younger brother and me all joined the Crotch on the same day. When we get out, we’ll take the money and go partners on the land.”

Kramer sat wondering how the money they saved could possibly add up to twenty-five thousand dollars. He didn’t doubt that Redstone was telling the truth, but he couldn’t see how and what chance there would be of them getting the rest of the money. Ramirez was thinking the same thing, and after waiting a few seconds, he asked, “Chief, how’s that gonna come to twenty-five thousand dollars?”

Redstone did not hesitate to answer. He and his relatives had been too serious and careful in their plans to have left them incomplete. He shrugged his shoulders before saying, “There’s four of us — all grunts, all in Nam. Chances are we all won’t make it back.”

For a few seconds, Kramer failed to make the connection between what Redstone had said and the fact that all servicemen were covered by ten thousand dollars military insurance. Even afterwards, he couldn’t believe what he had heard. During the time he’d been in Vietnam, little he had seen or heard had shocked him as much as these calmly spoken words. From the moment he’d stepped off the plane in Da Nang, Kramer realized he was in a new and referenceless matrix. Purposely and ruthlessly, he had stripped his mind of all inflexible preconceptions, preparing himself for anything. Yet Redstone’s words did not stem from this new matrix, but rather from the world they had all left behind; and for the first time, Kramer sensed a valid, logical connection between the two.

Second Platoon was given one of the day’s patrols. Kramer told Charlie Squad to lead off. Ramirez was now the squad leader, and he assigned Chief the point. The men no longer assumed each patrol would finally make contact. They had gone too long without seeing any sign of the Viet Cong. This did not cause them to get careless, for they knew that eventually they would make contact. However, it was no longer a question of catching Charlie, but rather of waiting for Charlie to strike.

The objective of the patrol was a large area of high ground, too large not to have at one time contained a ville. Chief realized this, and he approached it cautiously. A number of banana trees stood at its near edge. Redstone veered the column towards them. He spotted one with the remainder of a large bunch of bananas hanging from it. None of those left were ripe, and he scanned the ground looking for remains of the rest. Their absence told him that someone had been there recently, but he still wasn’t sure they would find anybody. Twice since the operation had begun, he’d noticed the same thing; and both times they had failed to come upon a single person. After passing a warning back down the column, he avoided an existing path and instead broke a new one.