Sand in the Wind (82 page)

Nash hadn’t heard anything that surprised him, but Ramirez had stated it a little better than he’d expected. Disliking the game he had been playing, Nash abandoned it. After calling for two chairs and having Chalice and Ramirez sit down, he also abandoned the military tone he’d been using.

“You men came in here with your minds made up. Now I’m going to try and change them. I’m not going to threaten you, and all I ask is that you listen to me. Is that all right
 
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Corporal Ramirez?”

“You’ll try to tell me I’m wrong, but I know I’m right.”

“All I ask is that you listen.
  
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.
 
. I’m not going to tell you what I think of this war. That isn’t any more important than what you think of it. The way I see it, we’re all in the Marine Corps and it’s our job to follow orders. You think this war is wrong, I know that; but do you still consider yourselves Americans? I mean do you feel responsible for what your country does?”

Nash stared at Chalice. He finally answered, “Yes, sir,” feeling as if he were being made to recite the Pledge to the Flag.

“And if it’s doing something wrong, you both feel that you should do what you can to stop it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you think that by refusing to fight you’ll be doing something to stop this war?”

Chalice remained silent, but Ramirez answered, “Yes, sir.”

“In what way?” Receiving no answer, Nash continued. “If every man in my battalion suddenly refused to fight, then maybe that would do something to stop this war — not because it couldn’t be fought minus one battalion, but because other battalions might do the same thing. I don’t think this would happen, but it’s possible. But we’re not talking about a whole battalion. We’re talking about two men. Do you think you can have any effect on this war by refusing to fight, both of you? What do you think will happen if we shipped you back to the States?” Nash paused, but Chalice and Ramirez remained silent. “I’ll tell you what would happen, the same thing that would happen if I went with you — nothing. What if I let you talk to every man in my battalion to try to convince them to do the same thing as you? I won’t, but what if I did? Do you think you could convince enough of them to have any effect on this war? You, Lance Corporal Chalice, do you think so?”

“No, sir,” Chalice answered in a tone indicating both hostility and agreement.

“Let me tell you something: if you could do it in this battalion, maybe people would hear about it and the same thing would happen in every battalion. Then I guarantee you we’d have to pull every Marine out of this country. But it
won’t
happen, not in this battalion or any other one. If you men go to the brig, then that’ll be the end of it. This goddamn war will go on just as well — or badly — as before. You’ll have served no purpose but putting yourselves behind bars.
  
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.
Believe me,
I’d do all I could to see that you got off easy, but chances are you’d be in pretty bad shape when they got through with you.

“I’ve tried to convince you that what you’re doing is pointless, and I hope I have. Now I’m going to try and convince you that, if you feel the way you do, the best and most honorable thing you
can do
is to continue as members of a rifle company —” Chalice winced noticeably at the word “honorable,” but Nash ignored this and continued, “— I’m an American, and so are both of you. Whether you like it or not, you’re Americans. I happen to like it. This is going to sound like I’m waving a flag in front of you, but listen to me anyway. When my country does something right, I’m proud of it. When it does something wrong, I’m ashamed
 
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and I also feel guilty. I would hope you’re the same way. But let’s just think about our battalion for a minute. Every man in it has a job. Even if it’s sitting behind a typewriter, we need that man to operate. If we don’t have him, we’ll get somebody else to replace him; but we need somebody to do that job. Let’s say our battalion does something wrong, that one of our rifle squads kills some prisoners, or even civilians. I’m not gonna say the man behind the typewriter is just as responsible as the man who pulls the trigger; but if it wasn’t for the man behind the typewriter, there wouldn’t be any man in the bush, and he wouldn’t have a rifle or trigger to pull.” Nash noticed a hostile look on Chalice’s face. “I know what you’re thinking, Chalice: if he hadn’t typed out those orders, somebody else would have; but still, he did and he’s partly responsible for those dead prisoners, and the people in this battalion aren’t the only ones responsible. You know how that rifle got paid for? With taxes; and it was the people back home that paid those taxes — your parents and just about every goddamn person in the United States. All I’m saying is that every goddamn American whether he likes it or not, is responsible for what’s going on here, maybe not to the same degree as the psychopath that blows away an unarmed prisoner, but in one way or another we’re all in this together. But there’s one very big difference — the difference between a clerk-typist and a rifleman. If I’m responsible for something, I want to have control over it, and I’ll tell you who has more control than anybody else, the grunt, the man up to his ears in rice paddies
 
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because he’s the one that pulls the trigger.

“If you think you can stop this war, that you can do anything more than get yourself thrown in the brig, then the best thing for you to do is to refuse to fight. But if you think that, then you’re just fooling yourself. And I’ll tell you what else can happen. We’ve got our share of psychopaths in this battalion. You’ve probably seen more of them in action than I have. While your ass is rotting in the brig, maybe we’ll replace you with one more psychopath. Maybe a few more prisoners or civilians will end up dead because of it. If you’re in the bush, you can at least
try
to see that this doesn’t happen.”

Nash stared directly at Chalice before continuing. “I couldn’t care less what kind of
political
speeches you give to the other men in your platoon, just as long as you’re carrying your rifle and following orders. If you think this war is fucked-up, tell them what you think. It won’t make any difference here, but it might — if there’s enough of you — when you get home.”

Nash felt that he’d said just about all he could say. He also believed that he had gotten through to them, and that it was now time to find out. He purposely looked at Ramirez while asking, “Do you think what I’ve said makes sense?”

Ramirez was hesitant to speak, but Nash continued to stare at him until he was forced to answer, “Yes sir, it makes sense
 
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but it shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to kill any more of them.”

“Will less of them die if you don’t kill any, or will that just mean that some other Marine will do the killing?
 
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No, you shouldn’t want to, and nobody can make you
kill
or
want
to kill. You’re the one that has to pull the trigger. Since you’ve been here, has anyone ever ordered you to fire?”

"Yes.”

“When?”

“A lot of times they’ve told us to open fire.”

“I don’t mean that. That really isn’t an order.
  
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. Well, it would be if everybody refused, but that isn’t what I mean.
  
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. Let’s say you’re advancing on a tree line, and they tell you open fire. Do they check your rifles afterwards to see if everybody fired?”

"No, sir.”

“Even if they did, all you have to do is shoot up in the air. No one can make you take a bead on somebody and blow him away. All you have to do is aim over his head. I don’t expect all my men to be good enough marksmen to hit a VC at three hundred yards, but I sure as hell hope they can miss him if they want to.
  
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. Maybe sometimes it’ll be you or him, or him and a friend of yours. Then you’ll have to decide and decide fast, but no one can make you kill him. It’s your decision. All I ask,
demand,
is that you go out in the bush and take your rifle with you. I can’t make you shoot it. That’s up to you.”

“But if I don’t want to shoot it, why should I be there
 
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sir?”

"For only two reasons. The first one doesn’t sound so good. It’s because if I left it up to my men where they wanted to be, all except the psychopaths would be at home. That wouldn’t do anything to stop the war. All that’d happen would be that they’d replace me with some colonel that
could
keep his men in the bush. I imagine the second reason will make more sense to you: you owe it to the men in your platoon. If they’re out in the bush, you should be out there helping them.”

“To kill more Gooks, sir?”

“To stay alive, and there’s a good chance that’ll mean killing Gooks.
  
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. I’ve killed quite a few men myself. It’s not the greatest feeling, but I still get my sleep at night. Maybe I should feel guiltier about it, but I don’t. All I’m saying is that I’ll never force you to kill, but I’ll do everything I can to see that you carry your M-16 and go where your unit goes.” Nash now doubted he had gotten through to either Ramirez or Chalice, so he decided to try something different. “I hope you men aren’t trying to judge this whole country by the Arizona. We go in there because that’s where the VC and the NVA are, and they couldn’t stay without the help of the peasants. But you can’t judge all the people in this country by the ones that live in the Arizona any more than you can judge all Americans by the people you might meet in some Iowa cornfield.
  
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. And another thing: you can’t judge all Arvins by the ones we’ve been working with — they’re Popular Forces. That’s like trying to judge Marines by some National Guard unit.
  
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. Look, all I’m asking is that you think about what I’ve said. Will you?”

“Yes, sir,” Ramirez answered softly.

Nash turned to Chalice. “What about you, Lance Corporal?”

Chalice had to admit that what Nash had said made some sense, but not enough sense. Memories of the Phantom Blooker and the canopy refused to leave him; and he felt that what Nash was talking about wasn’t something that could be argued — it was a matter of principles. “You
 
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sir, you’re trying to tell us that if we don’t believe in something, we should keep doing it anyway.”

“No. That’s only part of what I’m telling you. If you feel this war is wrong, you should do everything you
can
to see that it is ended. I’m just telling you that you’re choosing the wrong way. As soon as you signed your induction papers, you fell in up to your neck. The question is not what you can do, but what you can do now. Getting yourself thrown in the brig won’t do anybody any good. There isn’t anything stupider than the romantic notion that you can
always
do the most good by making the greatest sacrifice. That’s the same thing as some idiot saying the greatest thing you can do for your country is die for it. I’d like to meet the colonel that could convince me that dead Marines are more useful than live ones.

“Your reasons for refusing to fight are emotional, Ramirez’s more than yours. I’m just asking you to be practical. You’re just one little person in this Marine Corps. Why fool yourself into thinking you’re accomplishing something when actually you’re only making things worse. It’s the people back home that pull the strings. You aren’t going to reach them by refusing to fight, not you alone
 
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or both of you.”

“What’s the difference where I am? If what you say is right, then I’m only one person no matter where I am.”

“Here you’re a measly lance corporal. Back home you’re a veteran. Maybe if enough of you come back saying the same thing, maybe somebody’ll start listening.
  
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. I wouldn’t bet on it, but maybe. In any case, the United States is the place to do your talking, not here.”

“People already are talking back there.” Nash’s look turned colder, and Chalice added, “Sir.”

“There’s a few people
saying
the things you believe, but they sure as hell get drowned out by the others doing the
shouting.
Do you actually think those screaming protesters back home are any better people than the men in this battalion?”

“Yes, sir,” Chalice answered, though not sure what he believed.

This reply angered Nash, far more than his tone indicated. “Well you’re
dead
wrong. When they start acting like a bunch of spoiled brats and shout speakers down, do you think that does any good?” Nash’s tone became gradually more emotional as he continued. “Do you think this war’s gonna be stopped by burning down ROTC buildings
 
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or by burning flags? You believe what you want to, but I’ve seen this bullshit too many times. All it takes is one idiot burning a flag, and right away you’ve got a hundred more idiots waving them. I —”

“They’re not —” Chalice blurted out before he realized that he was cutting Nash off. Nash was embarrassed he had gotten so emotional, and he nodded for Chalice to continue. “They’re not all like that, sir.”

“No. You’re right. I just get excited when I think about it.
  
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. But too many of them
are
like that, and the others get so lost in the shuffle they might as well be here. Maybe someday those selfish brats will wise up, I don’t know.” Nash felt mentally drained. He knew that if he hadn’t made his point already, he wouldn’t be able to. “We’ve been talking quite a while and there’s not much more I can say. I certainly haven’t tried to convince you that you can ever really do much about stopping this war, and I haven’t tried to convince you that you shouldn’t make some effort to do what your conscience tells you. If you still think you can do more in the brig than back in the States, I guess I haven’t been very convincing. All I ask is that you think about what I’ve said. There’s no need for you to decide anything until your company goes back to the bush. I hope you’ll go with them; but if you don’t, I’ll do what I have to.
  
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. Will you think about it for a while before you decide?”