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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: War & Peace
- Published: 01/12/2014
The Picture
Born 1956, M, from Pembroke Pines, FL, United States.jpg)
The Picture is entirely fictional. The writer, John Vincent Prater, simply wrote this short story as a way of expressing what he felt might be some of the feelings and dilemmas experienced by some of his fellow Combat Veterans.
I scraped a black slimy leech from my stomach with my K-bar, and then another. Those damn things seemed to fall from the sky. At first, I was sickened by them, and dreaded getting them on me. After a while, I became used to them and even took some pleasure in looking for them on my body. At least while I was looking for leeches, I was distracted from the other Hell around me. The jungle held a lot of creepy, crawly things that needed to be watched out for. Some could kill you, like poisonous snakes. I had never seen one, but the rumor mill had it that if the ‘Mamba’ bit you, you wouldn’t make it more than two steps before you keeled over. We had affectionately called them ‘The Two-Step Snake.’ What a pain in the butt. Not only did I have to worry about Charlie trying to kill me, I had to watch out for spiders and snakes too.
Charlie. Why did we call the enemy Charlie? I really didn’t know. It was however, a much nicer name than gook, slant eyes or some of the others I’d heard. The guys that really hated them called them those names. I guess it helped to hate them. I tried not to think about it. I didn’t want to hate Charlie; I just wanted to stay alive. If it meant killing Charlie to do it, then I would. I didn’t have to hate him first.
Doc always told us to not drink the water. “Only drink the water you bring on the hump,” He’d said often. I found out why more than once. Finally after being sick and tired of running to the latrine every five minutes, I learned how to control my water intake. A few times I even drank water from vines. “If the water is clear, it’s okay to drink,” I was told. Anything was better than dying from dysentery. I thought my feet were going to rot off too. There was just no way to keep them dry. When we weren’t wading through rivers, creeks or rice patties, the sweat from my body sloshed around in my boots. I always changed my socks each time we stopped for chow, hoping to save my feet. I also had this pounding headache, deep behind my eyes all the time from scanning and searching the jungle, eyes wide open, never blinking. “You blink - You die!” Sergeant Hill used to say. As I lay there, savoring the five-minute break from our days hump, I looked at the picture. A few of the other guys had told me I should get rid of it. “Stop dreaming and focus on The Nam.” I disagreed and kept it tucked inside my flack vest.
As Sarge gave the signal to saddle-up, I put her picture away and gathered my gear. Just a few more hours and we would hunker-down for the night. “Just stay alive for a few more hours” I whispered to myself. “The darkness is your friend. If you can’t see them they can’t see you.”
The blood red sun was beginning to set over the distant mountains as we approached a friendly village. The village had enormous rice patty fields to the north and west and we needed to cross them before dark. Staying in or near the village would not be a smart thing to do. Intel’ said that Charlie visited this village regularly to get food and fun. We would cross before dark and hunker-down in the bush to the northwest. If Charlie came by for a mid-night snack, we would be waiting. This was a ‘search and destroy mission’ after all, not some Sunday afternoon stroll. What day was it anyway? At that moment I wasn’t sure of the day, month or even the time. Time didn’t mean much anyway. Not until you were short. When you got short, you counted the days, hours and minutes, marking them off one by one. Me, I had only been in the Nam for about two months… I think?
Sergeant Hill had us spread out and reminded everyone to stay off the tops of the rice patties. “Get wet and stay alive.” He said. Damn, my feet had just dried out a little.
We were about one-third on the way across when I heard the sound. I had heard it before and I always got the same chill down my spine. There was no time to react as the first Mortar round hit its target. The Marine closest to me and to my right was torn apart by the explosion and the concussion knocked me on my ass. I wasn’t sure if I should thank God for sparing me or curse at him for taking another brave Marine. Charlie had been waiting just inside the tree line. They knew that we were far enough away that by the time we heard the sound, the mortar round would be near impacting. I made myself into a tight little ball and covered my head with my arms. As all hell broke loose, we struggled to get deeper in the muddy rice patty water. Mortar rounds impacted among us and AK-47 rounds zipped by over the dikes searching for more targets. Marines were screaming in pain from hot shrapnel tearing into their flesh. I knew that Doc was making his way to the closest Marine so I just kept my head down. Doc would not stop until every wounded man was tended to. I wondered where the Navy found men the likes of him. The attack stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Charlie knew we were pinned down, so they didn’t waste any more ammo on us. They were well hidden about three hundred yards away in the dense bush, but we were hidden from them as well. To our good fortune, the rice patty dikes ran parallel to the tree line. We were behind the dikes down in the muddy patty water. No doubt…that’s where we would be spending the night. No chance we could get close air support either, the sun was already setting. It would be dark in less than an hour, so we hunkered-down. Tonight there would be more damn leeches, wet socks, wrinkled feet and no food.
It must have been about three or four hours later when I heard a whisper from my right. “Pass it on, move out to the east, stay low and quiet.” I thought to my self, 'No kidding, stay low and quiet.'
I was going to be as quiet a church mouse. I passed it on. Slowly we made our way to the end of the rice patty to drier land. I probed the dike with my K-bar, like I had been trained. I searched for land mines and felt my way along scanning for trip wires. Eventually everyone that could was gathered at the edge of the rice patty facing the northern tree line. Thank God it was dark. We were out in the open with the tall grass as our only cover. Doc had stayed behind with a couple of guys who were seriously wounded. Sergeant Hill laid out the plan for us. If Charlie were still there, they would probably hit the rice patties with more mortar fire at sun up. We needed to get to them before they could start sending mortar rounds into the rice patty. We had to keep them from killing Doc and the wounded Marines. Fanning out in a semi-circle, we began advancing toward the northwest along the edge of the rice patty toward the tree line. When we were within about a hundred feet from where we figured Charlie to be, we stopped. It was still very dark and the night sky was bright with stars but no moon. I kept saying to myself, “If you can’t see them, they can’t see you.” I took very shallow breaths afraid that Charlie might hear me breathing. Then my stomach started to beg for food. The growling and gurgling was so loud that I was sure I was going to give away our position. I made myself as flat as possible and sipped on water to stop the stomach noises.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the rising sun started to send white rays of light through the jungle. She was on our side this day; she was literally behind our backs. As the sun climbed higher, ever so slowly, we began to spot our enemy. They were much closer that we had expected. Rays of light reflected off metallic objects. Human figures became barely visible against the green backdrop. Their attention was directed toward the area where we had been and where Doc was. Remembering to pick a target directly to my front, I checked my firing parameters and waited. There was no verbal command to open fire. Almost simultaneously, we opened fire, catching them completely off guard. M-16’s popped and the M-60 gunner sent hundreds of rounds into Charlie’s position. Their plans to turn the rice patty into a killing field had been spoiled. For just a few short moments the silence of the morning was shattered by gunfire and the sounds of dieing men. When the returning fire ended, several of the guys rushed forward. After a few minutes someone yelled “All clear.” Hill had me contact Command and request a chopper to get our wounded out. “Have ‘em bring some water, chow and ammo too,” he said.
We took many lives that day. But we had saved many lives as well. We had saved Doc and the wounded Marines who had spent the night in the rice patty wet and alone. We had saved our lives. Well all but one. What was his name any way? I hadn’t dared ask. Since I was still a ‘Newby’ I didn’t know many of the guys by name yet. I realized it might have been a good thing. It hurts less if the guy, who gets it, isn’t your ‘P’.
While sitting there changing my socks, I felt a familiar sensation on my stomach. Lifting up my fatigue shirt, I scraped away a leech with my K-bar. Returning the knife to its sheath, I reached inside my vest and took out her picture. I thought about the old cliche that says, “Out of sight out of mind.” Some guys may want or need her out of their mind. Not me. I needed her in my mind. I needed some beauty, some warmth and compassion in my mind. I will not get rid of her picture. I will keep her right here next to my heart and in my mind I said to myself. Holding her picture to my chest, I drifted off into a semi-sleep state. I could smell her perfume as I gently stroked her hair, the soft skin of her face against mine. I will keep her in my mind, I will stay alive and I will go home to her. I will go home to her.
From the corner of my eye I saw Hill and another Marine making their way back through the rice patty. They stopped where the first mortar rounded had landed. I watched as they gently gathered the remains of the mangled Marine and laid him on a poncho. My chest suddenly felt like an elephant was sitting on it and I began to sob. For several minutes I cried quietly, embarrassed that someone my notice. Maybe it’s better I don’t know his name, I thought. Who was I kidding? He was a Marine and now he was dead. Nothing mattered but that; he was dead. Doc was there next to me when I looked up. “Are you hit any where?” he asked. I assured him that I wasn’t. He began checking my head, face and neck for wounds. When I asked why he said, “You’ve got blood on you, is it yours? I slowly shook my head no. The guy that was hit by the mortar, maybe it was his, I thought to myself. Doc put his hand on my shoulder. “Bud was short you know, he was outa here in two weeks.” Bud, so that was his name. I just nodded and Doc left.
A couple hours passed by before we heard the Huey making its approach. My radio came alive with the voice of the Chopper Pilot asking for smoke. I replied, “Roger popping smoke.” The Pilot spotted the red smoke, I confirmed the red smoke as he banked hard to his left and swiftly came in over our position. A Cobra Gunship circled over-head as we quickly off loaded the bird and got our dead and wounded on board. The Huey was gone as swiftly as it had come, leaving us alone again in the Jungle. As the sound of its departure faded away, I wished I were on board.
We sat at the edge of the clearing for a while enjoying a meal of c-rats. Everyone was careful not to bunch-up, although a few of the guys huddled in groups of two or three to swap beans and franks for peaches, or what ever. Some smoked cigarettes and told jokes. I stayed pretty close to Sergeant Hill in case he needed the radio. He was busy looking over the terrain maps, planning our next move. I had asked why we didn’t have a Platoon Commander going out with us on patrol and had been told there weren’t enough Lieutenants in the Marine Corps. Sarge had said, “I just can’t keep their dumb asses alive.”
The people from the village were starting to go about their daily routine. Men and women were working in and around the rice patties. Children also worked and played, everyone seemed oblivious to the fact that men had died here just a few hours before. A young boy was near our position with his mother. He knew that Marines didn’t like for people, friend or foe, to approach them, so he didn’t come nearer. Once in awhile when I looked his way, he was looking at me. I dug around in my ruc-sack until I found what I was looking for. I usually saved my coconut and dark chocolate c-rat plugs for times like this. The next time he looked at me I showed it to him. He was several yards away as I tossed it to him. He caught it with no difficulty. Showing it to his mother he broke it in half giving part to her. She did not look in my direction, but said something to the boy. He made a common gesture of thanks and began to nibble at the food. I felt a familiar lump form in my throat and my eyes became clouded over.
After we finished our meal, and the ammo and fresh water were divvied up, we began to saddle up. There were still several hours of daylight left and we needed to put some distance between the village and us. Hill gave the signal to move out and we continued north on our Search and Destroy Mission. As we entered the bush, headed north, I looked back at the village and surrounding rice patties. The little boy was standing near one of the hooches looking in our direction. He raised his hand and waved. My stomach suddenly felt very empty again and a tear tried to creep into the corner of my eye. I waved back at him as we disappeared into the jungle. Damn, I hated this place and what it was doing to me.
The Picture(John Vincent Prater)
The Picture is entirely fictional. The writer, John Vincent Prater, simply wrote this short story as a way of expressing what he felt might be some of the feelings and dilemmas experienced by some of his fellow Combat Veterans.
I scraped a black slimy leech from my stomach with my K-bar, and then another. Those damn things seemed to fall from the sky. At first, I was sickened by them, and dreaded getting them on me. After a while, I became used to them and even took some pleasure in looking for them on my body. At least while I was looking for leeches, I was distracted from the other Hell around me. The jungle held a lot of creepy, crawly things that needed to be watched out for. Some could kill you, like poisonous snakes. I had never seen one, but the rumor mill had it that if the ‘Mamba’ bit you, you wouldn’t make it more than two steps before you keeled over. We had affectionately called them ‘The Two-Step Snake.’ What a pain in the butt. Not only did I have to worry about Charlie trying to kill me, I had to watch out for spiders and snakes too.
Charlie. Why did we call the enemy Charlie? I really didn’t know. It was however, a much nicer name than gook, slant eyes or some of the others I’d heard. The guys that really hated them called them those names. I guess it helped to hate them. I tried not to think about it. I didn’t want to hate Charlie; I just wanted to stay alive. If it meant killing Charlie to do it, then I would. I didn’t have to hate him first.
Doc always told us to not drink the water. “Only drink the water you bring on the hump,” He’d said often. I found out why more than once. Finally after being sick and tired of running to the latrine every five minutes, I learned how to control my water intake. A few times I even drank water from vines. “If the water is clear, it’s okay to drink,” I was told. Anything was better than dying from dysentery. I thought my feet were going to rot off too. There was just no way to keep them dry. When we weren’t wading through rivers, creeks or rice patties, the sweat from my body sloshed around in my boots. I always changed my socks each time we stopped for chow, hoping to save my feet. I also had this pounding headache, deep behind my eyes all the time from scanning and searching the jungle, eyes wide open, never blinking. “You blink - You die!” Sergeant Hill used to say. As I lay there, savoring the five-minute break from our days hump, I looked at the picture. A few of the other guys had told me I should get rid of it. “Stop dreaming and focus on The Nam.” I disagreed and kept it tucked inside my flack vest.
As Sarge gave the signal to saddle-up, I put her picture away and gathered my gear. Just a few more hours and we would hunker-down for the night. “Just stay alive for a few more hours” I whispered to myself. “The darkness is your friend. If you can’t see them they can’t see you.”
The blood red sun was beginning to set over the distant mountains as we approached a friendly village. The village had enormous rice patty fields to the north and west and we needed to cross them before dark. Staying in or near the village would not be a smart thing to do. Intel’ said that Charlie visited this village regularly to get food and fun. We would cross before dark and hunker-down in the bush to the northwest. If Charlie came by for a mid-night snack, we would be waiting. This was a ‘search and destroy mission’ after all, not some Sunday afternoon stroll. What day was it anyway? At that moment I wasn’t sure of the day, month or even the time. Time didn’t mean much anyway. Not until you were short. When you got short, you counted the days, hours and minutes, marking them off one by one. Me, I had only been in the Nam for about two months… I think?
Sergeant Hill had us spread out and reminded everyone to stay off the tops of the rice patties. “Get wet and stay alive.” He said. Damn, my feet had just dried out a little.
We were about one-third on the way across when I heard the sound. I had heard it before and I always got the same chill down my spine. There was no time to react as the first Mortar round hit its target. The Marine closest to me and to my right was torn apart by the explosion and the concussion knocked me on my ass. I wasn’t sure if I should thank God for sparing me or curse at him for taking another brave Marine. Charlie had been waiting just inside the tree line. They knew that we were far enough away that by the time we heard the sound, the mortar round would be near impacting. I made myself into a tight little ball and covered my head with my arms. As all hell broke loose, we struggled to get deeper in the muddy rice patty water. Mortar rounds impacted among us and AK-47 rounds zipped by over the dikes searching for more targets. Marines were screaming in pain from hot shrapnel tearing into their flesh. I knew that Doc was making his way to the closest Marine so I just kept my head down. Doc would not stop until every wounded man was tended to. I wondered where the Navy found men the likes of him. The attack stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Charlie knew we were pinned down, so they didn’t waste any more ammo on us. They were well hidden about three hundred yards away in the dense bush, but we were hidden from them as well. To our good fortune, the rice patty dikes ran parallel to the tree line. We were behind the dikes down in the muddy patty water. No doubt…that’s where we would be spending the night. No chance we could get close air support either, the sun was already setting. It would be dark in less than an hour, so we hunkered-down. Tonight there would be more damn leeches, wet socks, wrinkled feet and no food.
It must have been about three or four hours later when I heard a whisper from my right. “Pass it on, move out to the east, stay low and quiet.” I thought to my self, 'No kidding, stay low and quiet.'
I was going to be as quiet a church mouse. I passed it on. Slowly we made our way to the end of the rice patty to drier land. I probed the dike with my K-bar, like I had been trained. I searched for land mines and felt my way along scanning for trip wires. Eventually everyone that could was gathered at the edge of the rice patty facing the northern tree line. Thank God it was dark. We were out in the open with the tall grass as our only cover. Doc had stayed behind with a couple of guys who were seriously wounded. Sergeant Hill laid out the plan for us. If Charlie were still there, they would probably hit the rice patties with more mortar fire at sun up. We needed to get to them before they could start sending mortar rounds into the rice patty. We had to keep them from killing Doc and the wounded Marines. Fanning out in a semi-circle, we began advancing toward the northwest along the edge of the rice patty toward the tree line. When we were within about a hundred feet from where we figured Charlie to be, we stopped. It was still very dark and the night sky was bright with stars but no moon. I kept saying to myself, “If you can’t see them, they can’t see you.” I took very shallow breaths afraid that Charlie might hear me breathing. Then my stomach started to beg for food. The growling and gurgling was so loud that I was sure I was going to give away our position. I made myself as flat as possible and sipped on water to stop the stomach noises.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the rising sun started to send white rays of light through the jungle. She was on our side this day; she was literally behind our backs. As the sun climbed higher, ever so slowly, we began to spot our enemy. They were much closer that we had expected. Rays of light reflected off metallic objects. Human figures became barely visible against the green backdrop. Their attention was directed toward the area where we had been and where Doc was. Remembering to pick a target directly to my front, I checked my firing parameters and waited. There was no verbal command to open fire. Almost simultaneously, we opened fire, catching them completely off guard. M-16’s popped and the M-60 gunner sent hundreds of rounds into Charlie’s position. Their plans to turn the rice patty into a killing field had been spoiled. For just a few short moments the silence of the morning was shattered by gunfire and the sounds of dieing men. When the returning fire ended, several of the guys rushed forward. After a few minutes someone yelled “All clear.” Hill had me contact Command and request a chopper to get our wounded out. “Have ‘em bring some water, chow and ammo too,” he said.
We took many lives that day. But we had saved many lives as well. We had saved Doc and the wounded Marines who had spent the night in the rice patty wet and alone. We had saved our lives. Well all but one. What was his name any way? I hadn’t dared ask. Since I was still a ‘Newby’ I didn’t know many of the guys by name yet. I realized it might have been a good thing. It hurts less if the guy, who gets it, isn’t your ‘P’.
While sitting there changing my socks, I felt a familiar sensation on my stomach. Lifting up my fatigue shirt, I scraped away a leech with my K-bar. Returning the knife to its sheath, I reached inside my vest and took out her picture. I thought about the old cliche that says, “Out of sight out of mind.” Some guys may want or need her out of their mind. Not me. I needed her in my mind. I needed some beauty, some warmth and compassion in my mind. I will not get rid of her picture. I will keep her right here next to my heart and in my mind I said to myself. Holding her picture to my chest, I drifted off into a semi-sleep state. I could smell her perfume as I gently stroked her hair, the soft skin of her face against mine. I will keep her in my mind, I will stay alive and I will go home to her. I will go home to her.
From the corner of my eye I saw Hill and another Marine making their way back through the rice patty. They stopped where the first mortar rounded had landed. I watched as they gently gathered the remains of the mangled Marine and laid him on a poncho. My chest suddenly felt like an elephant was sitting on it and I began to sob. For several minutes I cried quietly, embarrassed that someone my notice. Maybe it’s better I don’t know his name, I thought. Who was I kidding? He was a Marine and now he was dead. Nothing mattered but that; he was dead. Doc was there next to me when I looked up. “Are you hit any where?” he asked. I assured him that I wasn’t. He began checking my head, face and neck for wounds. When I asked why he said, “You’ve got blood on you, is it yours? I slowly shook my head no. The guy that was hit by the mortar, maybe it was his, I thought to myself. Doc put his hand on my shoulder. “Bud was short you know, he was outa here in two weeks.” Bud, so that was his name. I just nodded and Doc left.
A couple hours passed by before we heard the Huey making its approach. My radio came alive with the voice of the Chopper Pilot asking for smoke. I replied, “Roger popping smoke.” The Pilot spotted the red smoke, I confirmed the red smoke as he banked hard to his left and swiftly came in over our position. A Cobra Gunship circled over-head as we quickly off loaded the bird and got our dead and wounded on board. The Huey was gone as swiftly as it had come, leaving us alone again in the Jungle. As the sound of its departure faded away, I wished I were on board.
We sat at the edge of the clearing for a while enjoying a meal of c-rats. Everyone was careful not to bunch-up, although a few of the guys huddled in groups of two or three to swap beans and franks for peaches, or what ever. Some smoked cigarettes and told jokes. I stayed pretty close to Sergeant Hill in case he needed the radio. He was busy looking over the terrain maps, planning our next move. I had asked why we didn’t have a Platoon Commander going out with us on patrol and had been told there weren’t enough Lieutenants in the Marine Corps. Sarge had said, “I just can’t keep their dumb asses alive.”
The people from the village were starting to go about their daily routine. Men and women were working in and around the rice patties. Children also worked and played, everyone seemed oblivious to the fact that men had died here just a few hours before. A young boy was near our position with his mother. He knew that Marines didn’t like for people, friend or foe, to approach them, so he didn’t come nearer. Once in awhile when I looked his way, he was looking at me. I dug around in my ruc-sack until I found what I was looking for. I usually saved my coconut and dark chocolate c-rat plugs for times like this. The next time he looked at me I showed it to him. He was several yards away as I tossed it to him. He caught it with no difficulty. Showing it to his mother he broke it in half giving part to her. She did not look in my direction, but said something to the boy. He made a common gesture of thanks and began to nibble at the food. I felt a familiar lump form in my throat and my eyes became clouded over.
After we finished our meal, and the ammo and fresh water were divvied up, we began to saddle up. There were still several hours of daylight left and we needed to put some distance between the village and us. Hill gave the signal to move out and we continued north on our Search and Destroy Mission. As we entered the bush, headed north, I looked back at the village and surrounding rice patties. The little boy was standing near one of the hooches looking in our direction. He raised his hand and waved. My stomach suddenly felt very empty again and a tear tried to creep into the corner of my eye. I waved back at him as we disappeared into the jungle. Damn, I hated this place and what it was doing to me.
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