My thoughts go back 50 years today to one of the saddest days
I can remember. I had eight months and seven days left “in-country,” but who was
counting? I carried an assault rifle in my job, to use when danger threatened our
country they told us. They didn’t tell us what to do when our country threatened
us. It would be a scary day for me in a year filled with scary days.
Yeah, we had heard the news. It seemed like almost monthly
we heard the news. There would be a rumor, then the truth would emerge that another
great American lay dead from the gun of a nobody, a sick vermin whose only
desire in life was to destroy America. Evil natures had lain hidden ahead of us
like booby traps. They still do.
That day, they called us, a man I’ll call Rainey and me,
into the shack that housed the base security. Rainy was a tall, lanky African-American
seaman. We called them “brothers” back then, a name they selected and we all
used as an identifier. Later I realized that the commander had chosen us
because we were both a bit older and got along well with the other men in the
security forces. He wanted a sailor of each skin color.
“It’ll be 12 on for you today,” he told us. “The rest of our
spare men are at the front gate. The base is on lockdown. Nobody leaves. Anybody
coming in better damn well have business here.” He didn’t tell us why, but we
knew.
We assembled our gear and headed out to the back gate of the
base where we would spend the next half-day. I couldn’t think of a thing to
say, so I didn’t say anything during the walk out. When we got to our post, everything
was quiet, not an “all is okay quiet,” but a sort of “all hell’s gonna break loose
any moment” quiet.
I still couldn’t think of anything to say, so we just stood
watch without talking much. Nobody wanted into the base, but there was a steady
stream wanting out. Most were “brothers,” although there were some loudmouthed
white sailors in the throng as well. Most, both black and white, were armed.
They weren’t supposed to be. Only security forces and selected others were
issued weapons. You could buy them on the “black market” though, any kind you
wanted.
All you had to do was ask one of the young boys lining the roads
where the GIs hitchhiked into DaNang and around the sprawling Air Force Base. It
was available, pistols, women, sunglasses, hats, tire-sandals, whiskey, tuk fin, anything you wanted. They could
get it for you.
We made it through the watch. They said they turned the patrol
dogs on some brothers trying to get a protest started out near China Beach. I
don’t know if it was true or not. I hate to think Americans were fighting one another
when there were so many others wanting to do us harm and who weren’t Americans.
As I said, we completed our watch, Rainey and I. We turned
everyone trying to leave back. A few argued, a few cursed us since we were the
only ones available. One sailor even cried. The commander had told us not to “lock
and load” unless we were threatened, and we never had to. Nobody really wanted
off base that badly. I think they just wanted to feel as though they had done something.
The day ended before our watch. A normal quiet settled on
the base with the darkness. Around the world in a place called Memphis, a good man lay dead, his still body proof of what a lone deranged person can do to
harm a country, the same country that had sent us to war.
Walking back to our barracks, I felt I had to say something,
but what? I was sure that in the villages adjacent to the base there were people
watching us and wondering what was happening.
As went walked along in this strange and soul-twisted place,
I turned to Rainey, who was deep in thought.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
He nodded and said nothing. We walked on into the night.
Ready to protect my country from foreign enemies. |
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