Scareforce (16 page)

When Larry alighted from the airliner in Bangkok, Thailand, he stood at the base of the ramp and breathed in the foreign smell
of the place. He stood in a vacant eddy of people departing the aircraft, oblivious to the fact that they were giving him
a wide berth to save themselves further injury. He took in this first impression of the ancient country of Siam with a growing
sense of pleasure. He was here, in a foreign country, a foreign land. Nobody knew him here. Nobody knew what a klutz he was.
Maybe here he could start over. Maybe here he could walk on the earth as a normal person. Maybe here he could be reborn.

The spring in his step and his newfound confidence lasted all the way to the customs shed, where he managed, without any effort,
to bruise his shoulder, break the handle from his suitcase, and endanger the lives of two customs agents. So much for the
wide-open possibilities of a new country. Larry decided to try to survive all the way to the air base. One step at a time.
And little steps at that.

Larry went to look for his ride to his air base. It was located at a former Thai airfield up-country, closer to the combat
zone. An NCO who had watched Larry’s progress in the customs shack looked at him with something akin to trepidation. The tall,
ungainly young lieutenant ambled up to his desk. The sergeant had already talked to two of the passengers who had arrived
on Larry’s aircraft. He didn’t believe it possible for one young man to be such a danger to himself and others but he didn’t
intend to take any chances. One did not return from a war zone by taking chances with the unknown.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant Rogers?”

“I need a ride to my duty location,” explained the young man. “Here are my orders.”

He attempted to extricate a ream of paper from his bulging gym bag. The papers all came loose at the same time flying from
his hand and knocking over the sergeant’s coffee.

Larry made a grab at the flying papers and impaled his hand on an ink pen. He shook his injured hand vigorously, thereby spraying
blood and ink over the few papers that he had missed with the coffee.

The sergeant didn’t know whether to try and help or jump into the nearest bunker.

Larry boarded the C-130 Hercules that was to take him to his duty station. He thought that the sergeant in charge of transportation
had been extremely nice in spite of the accident. The NCO had gone out of his way to see that Larry got the first available
aircraft going out. Now with his gym bag on his lap, he stared at the green of the jungle flowing like a carpet under the
starboard wing. Even the throb from his bandaged hand couldn’t diminish the excitement he felt to be there.

A few minutes prior to landing, the pilot of the big green airplane came on the intercom.

“For all of you departing at our next stop, I have some good news and some bad news. First the bad. We have been informed
by control that Mr. Charles is opposed to our landing you reinforcements at the base. He is at the moment lobbing mortar rounds
on the field in honor of your impending arrival. To facilitate your safe exit from the aircraft and to insure that me and
my crew spend absolutely the minimum amount of time on the ground, upon landing I will lower the tail ramp. If you will all
gather by the ramp, the crew chief will assist your rapid departure when we come to a stop. Our time on the ground will be
approximately seven seconds so don’t delay your departure. And thank you for flying the friendly skies of Southeast Asia.”

“If that was the bad news, what was the good news?” Larry asked the crew chief as he stood at the tail of the aircraft waiting
for the ramp to open.

“I guess it must have been that we don’t have to get off with you,” shrugged the crew chief.

As the wheels thumped down and the ramp started descending, Larry grabbed hold of a strap on the side of the plane and leaned
out as far as he could to see what was happening. He turned back to ask what he was supposed to do after he got off the Herky-bird.
At that precise moment there was a loud Whomp as a mortar round landed near the side of the runway. The pilot jerked the controls
involuntarily. Larry suddenly found out that the strap he had been holding on to was not attached firmly to the aircraft.
It was attached firmly to a parachute that was hung not so firmly from a peg on the airplane. It came loose. Larry fell from
the ramp. The chute snagged on an antenna. Larry found himself flying outside the aircraft down the runway at ninety miles
an hour in the middle of a battle. Those who witnessed the sight knew deep in their souls that someone special had come to
Thailand.

The guys at the squadron were actually happy to see Larry. War has a way of putting a real drain on manpower. Every man was
needed. Even Larry. They had heard rumors about his method of arrival but were willing to discount the stories as mere wartime
exaggeration.

The squadron commander was even happier to welcome Larry to the base. And not just because he was a sorely needed replacement.
He had known Larry in the States, had flown with him. He knew that in spite of what he was on the ground, when Larry climbed
into an aircraft, he was a pilot. And not just any pilot. Larry was a natural. He was one of those rare aviators who are able
to become one with the air-frame. He flew by feel. He could feel everything that was happening to his plane and everything
that it was capable of. The aircraft became an extension of his body and mind. With Larry at the controls, any aircraft would
strive to its full potential and beyond.

It was strange. When Larry entered the cockpit, he became a different person. It was almost as if he was using up all his
clumsiness on the ground. Because Larry was never clumsy in the airplane. In fact, he was the opposite of clumsy. He was the
best.

The commander had actually asked for Larry to join his squadron of F-105 flyers. The “Thud” was a fast, capable, sturdy aircraft.
It was also dangerous, difficult, and a handful to fly. It required constant attention and did not forgive mistakes. Only
the best could handle the beast

The commander figured that if he could keep Larry alive and well on the ground, Larry could do wonders in the air. It was
with this in mind that he asked two of his friends, Thai nationals, to keep an eye on the unlucky young flyer while he was
a guest in their country. They were only too happy to oblige.

Thailand is an ancient country that learned many centuries ago the secret to winning a conflict. It’s called assimilation.
Many conquering hordes descended on the fertile country of Thailand. In the short run the Thais won or lost the battles. In
the long run Thailand almost always won, through the practice of assimilation. A conquering nation would occupy the country,
make rules, dictate changes, demand obeisance to their gods, and remain firm for expected revolt. They would then be amazed
to find that all their demands were accepted by the friendly and helpful subjugated locals. It was so easy that they lost
their combative edge and slowly but surely attuned to the easygoing lifestyle of the Thais. Soon, it was hard to tell who
were the victors and who the vanquished. They had been assimilated.

Suwon and Prayoun were benefactors of this least-painful method of conquest. Suwon was a former farmer from Laos who had migrated
to Thailand in front of a flood that decimated his family farmstead. Since arriving in Thailand almost twenty years ago, he
had prospered as he never had in his native land. He was now Thai by choice and a practitioner of this gentle art of subversion.

Prayoun was a descendant of another country who had conquered Thailand when it was Siam. His family started as visitors and
now were locals. He was the youngest of the two, only five years out of high school. He had studied English so that he could
get a job at the air base, the best employer in the town. Suwon spoke a version of English that was at best a pidgin learned
from his friendly association with numerous GIs. The two Thais were introduced to their charge in a manner that was familiar
to most of Larry’s friends.

Larry exited the squadron building deep in thought about his duties in the war and failed to negotiate the front steps. He
fell the short distance and landed facedown in the only mud puddle for several hundred yards. He landed at the feet of his
two unofficial keepers.

Suwon and Prayoun recognized him immediately. As they helped him to his feet, they exchanged a glance that clearly said that
their assignment was going to be more difficult than they had thought.

As the days went by and Larry integrated into the war effort, his abilities in the aircraft started to be well-known. His
airman skills were prodigious. As he handled assignments that were increasingly difficult and dangerous, he never failed to
achieve success. In fact, he usually exceeded the mission goals. It got to be commonplace to call for Larry when the job looked
impossible. He was the complete air warrior.

On the ground it was a different matter. The most impossible job seemed to be the one which had been accepted by Suwon and
Prayoun. They went about it with everything they had, but trying to protect Larry from himself was just about a lost cause.

As they grew to know him, they began to respect his courage in the face of disaster. And Larry got to face a lot of disasters.
Slowly their respect turned to friendship. Larry had fallen in love with Thailand. He was anxious to learn as much as he could
about this ancient and provocative place. He wanted to see everything at once.

The three of them toured much of the countryside. The two bodyguards were more than happy to show off their home to Larry.
And Larry never failed to draw a crowd. He had another quality. It seemed that people could sense what a danger he was to
himself and his surroundings. And like strangers apprehensive about the wanderings of a toddler just learning to walk, they
seemed to want to protect him.

Larry, when prompted, would talk to his new friends about his job. He could describe in detail the difficulties of fighting
this most-unusual of wars. And the more they listened to his stories, the more concerned they grew for the safety of their
charge. They had heard how good he was in the air, but never having seen him in action other than on the ground, they found
it hard to believe. Finally after a lengthy discussion with Prayoun, Suwon decided to do something about their fears.

Suwon left the village early one morning and was gone several days. Larry missed his friend and asked Prayoun about him. Prayoun
would only say that Suwon was looking for something and would return when he found it.

Meanwhile, the air war heated up. The squadron’s operating area was moving farther and farther north and each mile up the
length of Vietnam meant an increase in defenses. Larry continued to amaze. He had an almost-instinctive sense of the battle
zone. His wingmen swore that Larry could see each and every round fired at his aircraft. He seemed to be able to pick the
safest route to get the job done. He was able to avoid the surface-to-air missiles, the SAMs, with uncanny ease.

But the sheer volume of defenses was even starting to show on Larry. He found it was harder and more dangerous each day to
get to the target and get back home. And fewer of his comrades were able to get back home. Those without Larry’s skill were
the first to be lost. Even the skilled warriors were limping back to base with aircraft barely able to remain in the air.
The war was getting serious.

After one particularly grueling mission, Larry was delighted to hear that his friend Suwon had returned. Prayoun said that
he would meet them in a local restaurant for dinner.

After dinner, Larry asked Suwon about his travels. His friend said that he had been looking for something, something for Larry.
He reached into his pocket and removed a silk-wrapped package. With reverence he unwrapped the bundle and took out a tiny
statue. It was a golden statue of a figure seated in cross-legged fashion. The face was unusual. The central feature was an
enlarged nose. On the back was what looked like characters in some obscure cuneiform.

Prayoun gasped. “You found one. I didn’t think you could.”

“What, what is it?” asked the young aviator.

“OK Buddha,” smiled his friend. “Number one Buddha. Number one, see.”

Larry’s eyes slid down from the object to Suwon’s arm as he pulled back his sleeve. The inside of his arm was a mass of fresh
scars carved deep in the flesh.

“Suwon, what happened? Who did this to you?” Larry demanded.

“I do, I do,” Suwon laughed. “Number one Buddha. See.”

He pointed, not to the scars but to a patch of skin that was. uncut.

“What is this, Prayoun? What does he mean?”

“He means he went looking for a number one Buddha. This is his way to ensure that the Buddha is truly a number one. When he
found a likely statue, he would hold it out in his hand and draw his knife across his arm. If the knife didn’t cut and his
arm didn’t hurt, it was a number one Buddha. They are very rare. You see, when you wear a number one Buddha, no harm can come
to you. You can’t be hurt. Suwon tested many before he found this one.”

The young Thai marveled at the little golden statue. It radiated ancient age—that and something else. It was almost as if
it had a calming effect on its surroundings.

“I never thought I’d see one. See, even the chain that it is suspended from is different. It was made by the monks from an
old, old pattern to honor the number one Buddha.”

Larry marveled at the intricate pattern of the chain.

Suwon gestured at Larry and smiled. Prayoun, understanding his friend, slipped the chain around Larry’s neck.

“We both want you to have this and wear it when you fly.”

They would hear nothing of his protestations.

“You are a good man, Larry, and a good friend. We can’t watch out for you like friends should when you fly. So promise that
you will wear this Buddha, and we won’t worry about our friend.”

Larry was overwhelmed by the gift and by the thought. Not being a religious man or one given to belief in the supernatural,
he was not convinced of the magical properties of the little statue. But, just the same, he wore the necklace out of loyal
friendship. After Suwon’s painful test of the other statues, he felt he owed it to his friend. As he walked out of the restaurant,
his hand automatically clutching the little idol, he didn’t even realize that he hadn’t tripped over his own feet or run into
a light post.