the Last Run (1987) (19 page)

An Khe Ranger Base Camp

Lieutenant J. D. Gibson didn't feel like eating after the morning's grueling three-mile run, but he didn't dare show he had a queasy stomach. He took a bite of runny scrambled eggs. At the other end of the long table, Brad Avant took a bite of toast, chewing slowly to keep from throwing up.

The run had taken its toll. Ten men fell out from Avant's ragbags, but only six had quit from the replacement 173rd maggots. The formation of maggots hooted and hollered when both lieutenants had to report their losses to Sergeant Childs after the run. As they had the day before, the maggots and the ragbags remained separated in the mess hall. Even the Ranger cadre was split. Childs had divided the instructors and trainers, assigning them to each of the groups. They, too, had come under the spell of the competition.

First Sergeant Demand stood in his usual position by the chow line, bellowing like a drill instructor. "Moove out, troop-ars. We got eggs, bacon, grits, toast, oatmeal, Post Toasties, and cold milk. Eat First Sergeant's good Army chow and move out!"

Lieutenant Avant gagged at the word "oatmeal" and picked up his tray. Gibson quickly followed the officer through the mess hall door.

Outside, Avant took a deep breath and spun around. "Damn you, J. D.! What the hell ya git me into? I'm supposed to be the crazy one, remember? And you up and volunteer us to be shitbirds. Cousin, I almost died runnin' up and down my formation this mornin' tryin' ta keep my boys from fallin' out."

Gibson shrugged his shoulders. "Hell, Brad, ya wanna be John Wayne you gotta lead by example. Your ragbags are wimps. I can't help that."

Avant broke into his silly grin. "You're trying to piss me off, ain't cha, cousin? You really think your boys gonna show mine somethin'? Well, I got news. Your boys are pissin' in the wind. Tell you what. I bet my Indian is gonna whip your redhead in the run this afternoon."

Gibson shook his head, "Childs wouldn't let 'em race this morning, so what makes you think he'll let 'em this afternoon?"

Avant threw his arm over Gibson's shoulder. "I got my sources, cousin. Just put up or shut up."

Gibson thought for a few seconds. Your Indian won last time, so he's already proven himself. Let's see . . . that makes the odds two to one. I got ten bucks to your twenty says you're full of shit and my man wins."

Avant patted Gibson's shoulder. "Cousin, you got yo'self a deal."

Lieutenant Dickey sat outside Major Shane's office, waiting for him to return from breakfast. Dickey felt confident that the paperwork he held in his hands would impress the major. The statements and fact sheets clearly demonstrated insubordination on the part of Sergeant First Class Gino and Sergeant Wade while in Phan Thiet. Their gross misconduct had set a dangerous precedent within the platoon and had undermined his authority as commander.

He had also written a paper pointing out the lack of discipline of two officers in Shane's command, namely Avant and Gibson, whose continued disregard for the "Code of the Officer" was appalling. Well, someone had to stand firm on the principles and customs of the Army. Dickey knew he was doing the right thing by bringing these matters to the commander's attention. Shane would see he was right and help him in the quest to reverse the undisciplinary trend.

When Shane walked through the front door, he took off his beret and immediately strode toward his office.

Dickey stood at attention as he passed. "Sir, I request to see you."

Shane kept walking. "Sure, come in."

Dickey marched in and executed a salute as Shane sat down behind his desk. Shane casually tossed a salute back and motioned to a nearby chair. "What cha' got?"

Dickey handed the papers to Shane and sat down. "Sir, I wanted to make you aware of some problems I've encountered."

Shane set the papers down and began reading. A few minutes later he looked up abruptly toward the door.

Dickey felt a wave of euphoria, knowing Shane was about to call for the first sergeant to bring Gino and the others.

"Hey Pete, bring me a cup of coffee, will ya?"

Dickey turned ashen white as Shane put his feet up on the desk and motioned toward the papers. "What is this bullshit?"

Dickey stammered, "Sir, I... I thought you ... "

"Dickey, what the hell is your problem? You act like a damn prima donna. You give orders like a general instead of a lieutenant. Son, you gotta lead your men, not order them. This bullshit you gave me is a good example. You're stomping on piss ants and can't hear the elephants about to run over you. I know what you're saying the problem is, but you're wrong. You are the problem. You gotta get involved with your men and learn their strengths and weaknesses. This is a Ranger unit, where our men work independently as teams. They're a different breed and need a different kind of leadership. You understand all that?"

Dickey nodded. By now he wanted only to be done with the session and to get out of the office. It was clear the major was not only a part of the dicipline problem here, he was a major cause of it.

Shane swung his legs down from the desk and gathered the papers into a stack. "Young man, you're smart and could be a helluva fine officer if you'd watch and learn from officers like Avant and Gibson. Learn from them quick and show me something, or I'm afraid you won't make it in my unit. I don't need toy soldiers. I need combat leaders."

Shane held the papers out to Dickey, who immediately stood, saluted, took the paperwork, and marched from the office without speaking.

Shane shook his head and yelled, "Pete, where's my coff..."

"Right here, sir," said Peteroski, walking in the door.

Highway 1 Twenty-one miles west of Phan Thiet

Wade and Virginia sat in the back of a partially-filled deuce-and- a-half truck heading for Phan Thiet. They'd been picked up by a convoy ten minutes before. Wade sat looking out at the scenery as Virginia stared at him. The sergeant finally couldn't take it any longer. "Okay, what is it? Why you lookin' at me that way?"

"Can't take it, huh?"

Wade shifted his shoulders so as not to see her.4 'Never mind.''

"1\irn around, Wade, I want to talk to you."

"Forget it."

"Alright, I'm sorry for staring . . . and I'm sorry for being bitchy. Ibrn around. Please?"

Wade sighed and shifted back, but avoided looking at her.

"What is your Christian name?" she asked evenly.

"Matthew, but I go by Matt."

"Where are you from?"

"Oklahoma."

Why did you stare at me in the mess hall when we first met?"

Wade looked into her searching eyes to see if she was mocking him. Her look was serious. "You . . . well, you reminded me of somebody. Fm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable/'

"Did you love her?"

"Jesus, lady!" Wade shifted around again. "What business is it of yours? Just leave me alone. Damn, I said I was sorry."

"You did love her, I can tell. Look Matt, IVe slept with you two nights and saw you buck-naked. You saved my life, and we don't even know each other. Don't you think we could at least talk?"

Wade sighed. He didn't want to admit it, but the small woman had gotten to him. She'd bitched and complained but always did what he said and tried her best. She was strong and filled with such fiery determination that he couldn't help but like her. Of course, her natural beauty couldn't be hidden by the sweat and grime, but it was her eyes that were too much for him and what he tried to avoid. Those large brown eyes made him feel so powerless that he knew he'd weaken and say something he'd regret. They were traps that had probably broken countless hearts already. He didn't want his to be the next one. He knew he'd been hard on her and gruff when he didn't need to be, but if he'd been otherwise, he would have fallen victim to her, and he'd been burned by one woman already.

Wade turned around slowly but still avoided looking at her. "Whaddaya wanna talk about?"

Virginia smiled and leaned back against the sideboards, looking at him. She had won the first battle. "1'm going to be honest with you. I've never met a man like you before." She grinned. "Of course, I've never been saved before, either."

Wade shook his head, unsure if this was a compliment or the start of a drawn out "thank you." "Lady, 1'm an Okie. People say all Okies are different, so don't think nothin' of it."

Virginia ignored the remark and asked what was really on her mind. "Matt, did you ever have any girl friends? I mean friends, not lovers."

Matt looked skyward. "Yeah, I had a coon dog named Sally. She was as good a friend a man could ..."

Virginia laughed and playfully hit his arm. "You know what I mean."

Wade smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I guess not. I didn't have sisters, or any girls that lived nearby. When I got big enough to notice the difference I was put back a few grades in school, and everyone thought I was a dummy. I had a girlfriend in high school, but she wasn't a friend-friend. To tell you the truth, I just wanted in her pants to find out if the big boys' stories about sex were true."

"Were they?" asked Virginia coyly.

Wade smiled, embarrassed. "Nope. The first time I was scared, she was scared, and it was a disaster."

Virginia laughed and scooted closer to him. She liked his smile. At least it seemed genuine.

"In college I met a girl who looked a bit like you. She was a good friend but not a friend-friend either. She was special. But things changed."

Virginia noticed the light fading from his eyes. "It didn't work out, huh?"

"Naw, she could do a lot better than me. I don't blame her. I just wish it could have been different, that's all. You know what I mean?"

Wade broke his self-imposed rule and looked into her eyes for the answer. She didn't have to speak. Her eyes spoke for her. He tried to break their hold by forcing a smile, but they only grew larger, increasing their power over him.

Virginia wished she could meet the woman that had hurt him so badly, and wring her neck. He was looking at her, Virginia, as she knew he'd once looked at the other woman. He was looking for understanding. Virginia reached out and took his hand. "I wish some things in my past could have been different, too."

She lowered her eyes, and then told him about a young girl's struggle for success-the good and the bad, and how, eventually, she'd met Walter and they'd shared a dream of making it to the top. Wade found himself with his arm around her as she recalled the bad times and wished somehow he could take the painful memories away. But he also laughed with her, feeling her joy as well as her pain. Sharing together somehow felt comforting to them. They had unashamedly opened their souls to each other about their feelings, and they had found understanding.

Virginia laughed and raised her hands as if holding a camera. "Click! There. Now I have one of your litde mental pictures, like you just told me you took of me."

Wade lifted his chin and turned his head slighdy. "I shoulda never told you about that. You were out of focus. Anyway, this is my best side."

Virginia grinned. "Huh-uh. I saw your best side at the river, remember?"

Wade lowered his head in embarrassment. "Hell, Ginny, I don't even remember talon' my drawers off."

"You were so mad at me you probably don't even remember you almost drowned."

"I did not! I bounced off the bottom like they taught us in water survival class."

"So that was it. You bounced."

"Yeah, I was bouncing just like you did when those leeches took a liking to you."

"And I suppose you got some of those little mental pictures of me then, too?"

"You bet I did!"

"Damn you, Wade."

The sergeant quickly raised his hands. "Click! There. I got the real you. Bitchy!"

"Wade!"

He grabbed her and kissed her forehead, but just then the truck began slowing. Wade pointed ahead. "We're here, Ginny. We made it."

Virginia stood up beside him and hugged him tightly. "God, it's ugly ... but oh, so ... so beautiful!"

An Khe Ranger Base Camp

The hot afternoon sun gave no mercy. The men of the Ranger company fired their weapons through the liquid heat. The company had marched to the firing range four hours before and had broken into small groups that rotated among training stations.

Thumper studied a paper target and shook his head. "Preacher, it's easy to see why the cowboys always beat you Indians. You only hit the target once!"

The small, brown-skinned soldier shrugged his shoulders. "David only used a sling shot."

"Yeah, well, you got a sling shot? You're gonna need something to hit the target before Childs sees this. Come on, let's try it again, but how about this time, you open your eyes, huh?"

Rose watched as two of his students set up their Claymore mines in front of a line drawn in the dirt, which represented a trail. He waited until they were finished, then faced the group of twenty men at his station.

"What you dudes just seen is exactly how not to set up a kill zone. They directed the blast of their Claymores to blow straight across the trail-wrong! The only dinks they gonna kill is the dude who stands in front of them mines.

"Looky here." Rose repositioned the crescent-shaped explosives. "If you put 'em at an angle so they blow down the trail you can kill more dinks. Plus, when you add the other team's mines, you got yourself a cross-blowing effect, and that, dudes, definitely fucks up Luke the Gook's day!"