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Authors: Peter Hallett

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THERE BE DRAGONS (2 page)

BOOK: THERE BE DRAGONS
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“That confidence is misplaced,” said Jacobs. “He’s a fool to be excited. It’s one thing to muster up bravery and rise to the occasion in adverse circumstances, and war is most definitely adverse circumstances, but it’s another thing to be happy at the prospect of war. It’s that type of attitude that could lead men to unnecessary deaths. To some of these lieutenants, Vietnam is just a chance to play out childhood fantasies. It’s a game of soldiers on a grand scale. This isn’t the same as playing in the street using sticks as pretend guns. When you die in Nam, you stay dead.”

“Who do you think is gonna be the first to buy it?” asked Lynch. His expression didn’t falter from chipper, even with the grim subject matter.

“That’s a very morbid subject,” Jacobs said back to him. The young lieutenant’s expression also didn’t falter from what it had been painted with during his little sermon: fear.

“Most of these guys could be flying to their deaths,” said Lynch.

“Haven’t you noticed we’re a part of that same group of guys?” asked Jacobs.

“Yeah, but we’re different.”

“How so?”

“Well, I just piss excellence.” Lynch held his hand to his heart then pointed at Jacobs. “And you. You got those smarts.”

“I could still make a mistake and no matter how brilliant you think you are, Lynch, you too can mess up.”

Lynch went somber for a second. “I’m gonna make sure that doesn’t happen.” Then more chipper than ever, “So, who do you think is gonna buy it? One of the cocky, confident ones or one of the fellas that look like they’ve just seen a ghost?”

“There is an obvious answer to that question, but I’m not sure how much a person’s character really plays a part in their chances of survival.” Jacobs leant in to Lynch. “I mean, does the training we’ve had even matter in the end? Or is this whole thing just a game of chance, being played out with bullets and explosions?”

“I think training matters. I think it matters a great deal, in more ways than one. It stands us apart from the dinks, for starters.”

“I think they get trained too.”

“Yeah, but not in the same way. We’re part of the most unstoppable force in the world, the United States Army. Some rice farmers don’t stand a chance against us.”

“Be careful, Lynch. You’re starting to sound like one of the cocky ones, like the obvious answer to that question.”

“You saying … I’ll buy it?” Lynch’s voice went higher with the shock of Jacobs’ insinuation.

“No. I’m saying be careful.” Jacobs wiped some sweat droplets from his chin. “The air is so hot and sticky. I wish we had some air-conditioning. My stomach doesn’t feel too good.”

“It ain’t the smoothest of flights,” said Lynch.

Jacobs went white.

“You okay?” asked Lynch.

“I just felt my gut turn and churn, like I might hurl on the deck.”

“Well, just give me a warning if you’re gonna.”

“I can taste the chunks in my mouth.”

“Let this be your first fight. The fight to not puke.”

“I hope it’s a victory,” said Jacobs holding his hand to his mouth.

 

• • • • •

 

The transport landed and coasted to a stop, allowing its four huge engines to windmill.

The hatch at its rear lowered down and Jacobs disembarked with the other men onto An Khe base.

The base was miles in circumference. Multiple layers of razor sharp barbed wire guarded its perimeter.

There was constant activity as choppers took off and landed, F-4 Phantoms occasionally zoomed by in the skyline and trucks and jeeps sped about. The vehicles sent up clouds of dust from the sundried earth.

The buildings had wooden floors with sandbag reinforcements and tent roofs. There was also a collection of thatched-roof, mud-walled hooches.

Down the road, along the main drag, a new An Khe had sprung up. It still had plenty of the mud-walled hooches, but there were buildings of tin made from uncut sheets of Budweiser and Coca-Cola cans. There were garish signs proclaiming the Tiki Bar and Joe’s Massage Parlor.

Off the road was a complex of concrete buildings around a plaza. The buildings were mostly bars, barbershops, and brothels, which were just simple stalls that had open fronts covered by curtains half-opened. Inside were bamboo beds and Baby-Sans, who looked out and called to passing troops, “Me love you long time.”

“Here we are. The time is getting nearer, Jacobs,” said Lynch as he took in their new surroundings. “I’ve heard you can buy anything in An Khe. Anything. You know what I mean?” He winked.

“We’ve all been warned what it’s possible to catch from the prostitutes, Lynch. Stay away from them. Okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I’d better. I don’t wanna be outta the fight, before I get in the fight. You have a great excuse to stay away. Although, I’m sure having a wife back home doesn’t stop most guys.”

“You might be right. But it’s enough to stop me. She’s my childhood sweetheart, you know?”

“That’s nice, Jacobs. You got a white picket fence?” asked Lynch, his big teeth catching the shine of the sun.

“Not yet.” Jacobs smiled. “Maybe when I get back home we will have. I miss her a ton already.”

“It must be difficult. I miss my parents. That’s all I can compare it too, really. And I know it’s not the same as that.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to cope with not seeing her for a whole year,” said Jacobs. “I promised to write her every day. She promised the same, and we’ve stuck to it so far.”

Orange dust was thrown up from a jeep that drove past. They both covered their eyes.

The dust hung in the air for a few seconds. Jacobs could smell the oil from the vehicle clinging to the small particles of dirt before it wisped away in the wind.

“I’ve developed a plan,” continued Jacobs, “I’m going to save my pay and when I’m able to take R&R, I’ll fly her over to Hawaii to be with me.” He paused, deep in thought for a second. “That’s if I’m able to survive long enough to do that. The thought of her having to deal with my death is heartbreaking. I can see her crying, her mother trying to comfort her.”

“Stop focusing on negative energies, on unconstructive thoughts. Block those babies out,” Lynch said.

“That coming from the LT who was wondering not long ago who would be the first of his fellow soldiers to die?”

“That ain’t negative. It’s only negative if you think you will die. You need to can that other stuff, man.”

“What if she can’t wait a year to see me?” asked Jacobs. “What if she finds someone other than her mother to comfort her on fearful lonely nights? A man. She is a beautiful girl and isn’t short of male attention. Male attention which will now grow in my absence.”

“From what you’ve told me, she doesn’t seem like the kinda girl to do anything wrong. Not the cheating type. You’ve gotta trust her. Think positive,” said Lynch. “You can’t be worrying about that stuff. You can’t control it anyway. So, there is no point worrying about something you can’t control. It doesn’t make sense to do so. What makes sense is the point I’m making. So listen to me, man. Keep the negativity away.”

A motorized cart pulled up to the right of Jacobs. The cart was full of body bags and had flies buzzing around them.

Jacobs swallowed back bile and had to look away. “I can’t even look at the dead with their faces hidden,” he said. “How am I going to face the dead in the field, with their lifeless eyes and devastated, distorted, and weapon-mutilated bodies? It will be gruesome. Gory. No doubt about it. And much worse than a body bag.”

“Yep, beaucoup for sure,” said Lynch. “You’ll learn to deal with it though. You’ll have too. You’d be surprised what it’s possible to do when you’re pushed.”

The driver of the cart and another soldier started to load the body bags onto the C-130 Jacobs and Lynch had just disembarked from.

“Vietnam’s conveyor belt of GIs,” said Jacobs. “The living brought in, the dead taken out.”

One of the body bags spilt and a dead man fell onto the airstrip.

“Damn it,” said the soldier.

Jacobs hurled.

“Get another bag,” said the driver.

The soldier ran off to get one.

Lynch went to look at the fallen body. “How did this one die?”

The driver shrugged. “The usual, I guess, enemy fire.”

Lynch rolled his eyes. “No, something looks odd about these wounds.”

“Lynch, leave the man alone. Let him do his job,” said Jacobs.

“I’m no doc,” continued Lynch, “but that looks like bite marks. I’ve seen the aftermath of a shark attack. It looks very similar. Do you got sharks in Vietnam?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

The soldier was back with the bag. They fixed the body in and loaded it on the plane.

“Jacobs, do they got sharks in Vietnam?”

“I don’t know … maybe.” Jacobs waved his hand for Lynch to stop.

“It looked like that guy had been attacked by one.”

“Perhaps he had been, then.” Jacobs held a finger to his lips and tried to stop Lynch from theorizing.

“If it wasn’t a shark, something else musta taken a chunk outta him. That body was very much FUBAR.”

Jacobs puked again.

“Maybe it was one of those flying demons. Perhaps the cowards and loonies might be on to something.” Lynch smiled.

 

• • • • •

 

A sergeant with white hair, a black frosted moustache, battle scars on his face, and a height of 6’5” escorted Jacobs, Lynch, and the other lieutenants towards their billets.

Jacobs’s eyes constantly were investigating the base trying to take in the magnitude of the setting he was now a small part of.

“You okay? You feeling better?” Lynch asked.

“I’m a bit better now, thanks. I’m just trying to organize a mental map in my mind of what I’ve seen so far … It isn’t working,” said Jacobs.

“I’m sure we’ll get a chance to get used to the base. Don’t worry about it for now. We’ll go for a look around later.” Lynch walked on ahead.

The imposing sergeant led the other officers into their billets.

The barracks were single story and stood in rows, like the barracks in Long Binh, with twenty of the new officers to each. The perimeter wire was only a stone’s throw away from their beds.

Jacobs stopped in the open air. It smelt of mortar fire. He looked beyond the wire.

The sergeant walked to stand next to him. “That’s the Green Line, beyond that is Charlie,” he said. “I bet you sure feel safe knowing all that’s between you and them is some wire.”

The trees had been cleared. All that was left was scrub. Jacobs could see mountains beyond.

“How did you know I was thinking about the comedy of only wire separating the enemy from me?” asked Jacobs.

“I’ve seen the look you’re wearing over your skull on the faces of countless other no-named lieutenants. All of them struggling with the same idea, the fact the NVA could be within only spitting distance from their nighttime slumber. I’ve seen countless numbers of your type arrive in Nam standing … and leave lying down.”

The hot Vietnam sun seemed to boil the sweat between the scar lines on the face of the sergeant as

he removed a tobacco pouch from his pocket, and placed some of its contents into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds, then casually spat some of the dark brown gob to the ground by Jacobs’s boots.

“You have an unnerving ease in this alien environment, Sergeant,” Jacobs said.

“It ain’t alien if you call it home, sir.” The sergeant’s reply was muddled by a slushy chewing sound.

“I guess not.” Jacobs wet his lips with his tongue. He tasted salt. “It feels strange having a man senior in years call me sir. Especially one with so much more experience out there.”

The sergeant made no reply.

Jacobs looked beyond the scrub into the tree line. “It’s a menacing sight, that jungle.”

“Why?” asked the sergeant.

“Because of what it holds in its depths. The Vietcong. The NVA.”

“It holds more than just zipper-heads.”

“Nothing worse though?” asked Jacobs, frowning.

“A hell of a lot worse,” said the sergeant.

“You’re just trying to scare me,” Jacobs chuckled. He tried to laugh off his unease.

“No, sir.”

“What can be worse than the enemy then?”

“The animals,” said the sergeant.

“The snakes?” asked Jacobs.

“They can be bad. Snakes here ain’t like the ones back home.”

“What are they like?”

“Massive,” said the sergeant.

“How big is massive?” asked Jacobs.

“Enough to swallow a man.”

“Bull.” Jacobs snorted.

“No, sir. It’s true,” continued the sergeant. “I haven’t seen a snake of that size myself, but I have it on good authority.” He paused for a brief second and chewed the tobacco. “I have seen, though, rats as big as dogs.”

“I still don’t believe you,” said Jacobs. He didn’t even look at the sergeant now.

BOOK: THERE BE DRAGONS
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