Authors: Yolanda Wallace
At the rate they were going, the summer would end before Grandma Meredith’s story did. Not that Jordan was complaining. She had discovered so many things about Grandma Meredith she never knew—and so much more she had never suspected.
She wasn’t surprised Grandma Meredith had experienced brushes with death—she had been in the middle of a war, after all—but she had no clue she’d had a brief flirtation with another woman. She might have to adjust Grandma Meredith’s Kinsey score. That zero was starting to look a little wobbly.
Jordan marveled at how well her grandparents’ unconventional love story had turned out. Then she reminded herself what Grandma Meredith had said when they began this leg of their trip. As much as she had loved Papa George, she had loved someone else even more.
Had Grandma Meredith’s attraction to Natalie Robinson been more than fleeting? Was she the one Grandma Meredith had cared for all this time?
Nah. Couldn’t be. She would have told me before now. I know she would.
Jordan got out of the car, started the pump, and stuck her head in the open driver’s side window while the gas flowed into the tank.
“Did you and Papa George get to go on R&R together?”
“No. His orders and mine came through at the same time and we ended up in different cities. He went to Bangkok and I went to Vũng Tàu.”
“I was hoping Lt. Col. Daniels was able to arrange a romantic getaway for you.”
Grandma Meredith frowned as if an unpleasant memory had just resurfaced. “The LTC was something of a miracle worker, but there were some things even she couldn’t fix.”
*
December 15, 1967
Vũng Tàu
Each time she was called to Lt. Col. Daniels’s office, Meredith felt like a recalcitrant high school student who had been summoned to see the principal. At least she had company this time. Robinson was by her side as she stood at attention in front of Lt. Col. Daniels’s paperwork-strewn desk. Flynn sat nearby taking notes. The woman probably slept with a clipboard in her hands.
“At ease.”
As Meredith and Robinson relaxed their stiff postures, Lt. Col. Daniels leaned back in her chair. The sling she had worn for nearly a month was gone, though she still favored her left shoulder from time to time.
“I want to go over the ground rules before you head out. Vũng Tàu is known as Sin City for a reason. There are over a hundred bars in the area. Most of them are named for American towns and landmarks to make us feel at home. In the bars and on the street, anything can be had for the right price. As long as none of the local laws are broken, the military tends to look the other way. You’ll probably run into some of the Allied troops on the beach or in town. Aussie and Kiwi forces are headquartered nearby, as well as several of our Army and Navy support units. You might see some off-duty VC as well. Rumor has it their forces take R&R there, too. Unconfirmed reports say the line of barbed wire stretching from the jungle to the water line on the northern end of the beach was put in place to separate the VC from the Allies. Be careful, no matter where you are. The VC might not be your only enemies this weekend. Some of the men you’ll come across haven’t seen a woman in months. When their money runs out, they might be tempted to take from you—by force, if necessary—what the ‘beach girls’ won’t give them without the correct fee. Look out for each other. If you leave your hotel for any reason, make sure you don’t do it alone.”
“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”
“There are a few nurses stationed at the base hospital in Vũng Tàu,” Lt. Col. Daniels said, “but R&R on the base itself is limited to servicemen. Thanks to Uncle Sam, a room has been reserved for each of you in the Majestic, a hotel near the beach. You should have a perfect vantage point to see some rather interesting sights. And that’s putting it mildly.”
Meredith didn’t care about the random couplings of horny GIs. She was more interested in crisp cotton sheets, a real bed instead of a bunk she could never get truly comfortable on no matter how exhausted she was, and all the sea air she could draw into her lungs.
“Every deuce and a half we have here in Long Binh is either spoken for or out of commission, so a flight crew will chopper you to Vũng Tàu and back. I’m sure the pilots and gunners will thank you profusely for the respite. A trip to Vũng Tàu is a reward that doesn’t come down the pike very often.”
Meredith wasn’t looking forward to boarding a helicopter again after the bullet-riddled flight out of Xom Que, but she preferred a short, relatively smooth chopper ride to the longer, bumpier one she would have had to endure in the back of an uncomfortable transport truck. By the time they arrived, her bottom would have been so tender she probably wouldn’t have been able to sit for a week.
“After you land, someone from the motor pool will drive you to your hotel. You’ll be given a stipend for meals and incidentals, but you’ll be on your own while you’re there.”
Flynn handed Meredith and Robinson an envelope filled with cash. Meredith could almost taste the freedom. Three whole days of peace and quiet. Three days without reveille or roll call. Three days of living without having to worry about the dying. And three days of trying to figure out where she and Robinson stood.
Robinson had been much more relaxed the last month or so, and she was smiling a lot more in general. She seemed, for lack of a better word, happy. Meredith wanted to know what had happened to change her attitude, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk—
really
talk—since Xom Que. Meredith wanted to talk to her about that day—and the night in the pool. Because she couldn’t get either out of her mind.
“If you miss your transport and fail to return to base as expected, you will be considered AWOL and you will be brought up on charges. Enjoy your time off, but don’t do anything stupid. That means no overnight visitors in your rooms, no embarrassing incidents in town, and no vanishing acts when your leave is up. Don’t make me come looking for you, ladies. Because when I find you—and I will find you—you’ll wish I hadn’t. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”
Lt. Col. Daniels’s expression, so hard one moment, quickly softened. “I wish I was going with you, but someone’s got to do the work around here.” She scooted closer to her desk and shuffled a pile of paperwork into a neat stack. “Dismissed.”
Meredith and Robinson saluted, picked up their duffels, and walked out.
“Transport doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes,” Robinson said. “I’m going to head back to my hooch to wait for mail call.”
“I’ll go with you. The only mail I ever get is twice-monthly letters from my mother. I enjoy the updates from home, but I could do without the constant prodding for me to reconsider my decision and come home. The only way I can return to the States before the end of my tour is if I was wounded or pregnant. One I hope will never happen, the other not for a few more years.”
“I’m sure George would make a good father.”
“You think so?” Meredith’s enthusiasm more than made up for Robinson’s decided lack of it. “I’ll have plenty of time to find out after the war’s over.”
“If the war ever ends. The conflict has been dragging on for years with no resolution in sight. I doubt anything happens to change that any time soon.”
Meredith felt confident she and George would eventually be reunited if the war managed to separate them, but she wasn’t so sure about her and Robinson. She feared the end of her tour would mark the end of their friendship as well.
When her hitch was up, she planned to return home, get a job in a civilian hospital or doctor’s office, and settle down. Robinson would most likely reenlist as she’d already done three times before. Unless Meredith’s plans changed by next summer, she and Robinson would be reduced to pen pals.
Meredith hoped they’d stay in touch after the war ended, but exchanging letters didn’t seem like enough. How could a few words on a page capture the essence of someone as complex and confounding as Natalie Robinson? Only the real thing would do. And the real thing would be thousands of miles away. Meredith already felt the pain of their parting and they hadn’t even said good-bye.
She had been in Vietnam since August. She had seen more in those four months than she had in her previous twenty-three years. Bodies broken, mangled, and burned beyond recognition. She had become a nurse so she could help those in need, but as the casualty count continued to rise, she couldn’t tell if her efforts were making a difference.
How could she stay and witness another year of horror? But how could she go and leave the men and women she served with to fight the battle without her? She didn’t want to leave the people she loved behind. Robinson, George, Lt. Col. Daniels, the men and women in her unit. She loved them all. One more than the rest. One she thought about constantly. Couldn’t imagine ever being without. Yet the possibility—the very real possibility—existed that they would soon part.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The future was too uncertain and the present was no sure thing. For now, nothing else mattered except the next three days.
“Have you ever been to Vũng Tàu?” she asked.
“No. This is my first trip.”
Meredith felt as if she and Robinson were finally on equal footing, a plateau she had been trying to reach since the day they met. Why had it taken so long for them to reach common ground? Now that they were here, Meredith didn’t want to waste the opportunity to deepen their friendship. This weekend was their best chance. And perhaps their only one.
“Maybe we can explore the city together. I hear the governor of Indochina built a mansion there that’s a sight to behold.”
Robinson gave her a sidelong glance. “You do know this isn’t a sightseeing trip, don’t you?”
Meredith blushed at her transparent eagerness. “I know.”
“Good. Because I hope you aren’t expecting me to play tour guide. R&R means rest and relaxation, not ramble and roam. For most of this trip, the only sights I’m planning on seeing are the insides of my eyelids.”
Meredith couldn’t help feeling deflated. Each time she tried to get closer, Robinson pushed her away. She was tempted to ask her why she wouldn’t let her in, but she thought she knew the answer. She was already in too deep.
What was it Robinson had said that fateful night in the pool?
I don’t want to kiss you, Meredith. I
need
to. Sometimes I need to kiss you even more than I need to breathe.
She had never desired anyone as much as Robinson seemed to desire her. When she looked at George, she felt a warm, rosy glow. When Robinson looked at her, she felt an all-consuming fire. A fire that now seemed to be extinguished. She missed its heat.
When they entered Robinson’s hooch, Lois was standing at the foot of Robinson’s bed. She was holding an envelope with colorful Vietnamese stamps affixed to the front. The envelope’s flap hung open. Lois gripped the letter inside. She froze when she saw Robinson walk toward her. “I—I thought you were gone.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant. Unless you’ve been assigned different housing, you don’t have reason to be here.”
“I was looking for Dolores. The truck’s waiting.”
“She’s probably already on it, which is where you should be.”
“Fine. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.”
Lois hid the letter behind her back and made to leave, but Robinson dropped her duffel on the floor and blocked her path. “Not so fast. Return my property before you go.”
“Like I said, I thought you had already left.” Lois stuffed the letter inside the envelope, and shoved both into Robinson’s outstretched hand. “I was going to hang on to that for you while you were gone.”
Robinson slid the envelope into the back pocket of her jeans. “Then you decided to read it instead?”
“The way you sound, I didn’t know if you could read,” Lois said, mocking Robinson’s thick Southern drawl. “I was trying to do you a favor.”
Robinson moved toward Lois, her body language as menacing as the look on her face. “One thing I don’t need is a favor from you.”
“I’ll remember that the next time you decide you want to change shifts.” Lois skipped past Robinson and darted out of reach. “Have a good time in Vũng Tàu. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And, Meredith,” she said, pirouetting in the aisle between the evenly-spaced bunks, “try not to worry about what George will be getting into while he’s in Bangkok. From what I hear, it’s anything goes over there, and you know boys will be boys. Hopefully, the only souvenir he brings back is the kind that doesn’t require shots.”
She snickered as she headed out the door. Robinson looked like she wanted to chase after her to get one more word in, but she managed to hold her ground.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Past it.”
Robinson grabbed her duffel and slung it over her shoulder. Meredith followed her out the door. As they walked across the base, Robinson pulled the envelope from her pocket, unfolded the letter inside, and began to read. A smile immediately creased her face.
“Good news from home?” Meredith asked.
“What?” Robinson looked up as if she had forgotten Meredith was with her.
“Is that a letter from your family?”
“No.” Robinson quickly folded the letter, returned it to its envelope, and shoved both into the recesses of her duffel. “From someone I didn’t expect to be hearing from so soon.”
Meredith waited for Robinson to elaborate but wasn’t surprised when an explanation didn’t prove to be forthcoming.
“Have you had any tough cases lately?” she asked when the silence began to drag on. “I haven’t seen anything more serious than a bad incidence of trench foot the last few days, but quiet spells don’t usually last very long.”
“I hope you’re wrong about this one.”
“So do I. I’ve had all the action I can take for the foreseeable future.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that, too.” Robinson looked as if she was trying to be matter-of-fact, but her studied nonchalance appeared rehearsed. “Kerry stopped by the other day. She has some time off and she wants to meet up when we get to Vũng Tàu. She’s been there a ton of times and knows all the most popular places, as well as the out-of-the-way ones. If you want a tour guide, she’d make a better one than I would. Are you interested?”