I asked him how his new job was. Where he lived on base. What it was like having good food again. Whether or not he knew anyone on base from his previous duty stations.
I asked him if he missed this. Us. Any of it.
But then I ripped the letter up and threw it in the trash. My hero worship for Major Marian had gone too far. I was obviously feeling rudderless without our senior officer around anymore.
I was a grown man for god’s sake. I went back to my hooch and wrote to Betsy instead, telling her how much I missed hearing her sing to the babies and wished I could have a taste of the blackberry jam she’d put up the first year we were married. I asked her how the kids were and told her about some of the women nurses on base and how tough they were. Before I closed the letter, I even suggested maybe she could go to college if she wanted after I got home and could help with the kids.
Over the next several weeks I wrote those two letters I don’t know how many times. First I’d write the real stuff to the major, and then I’d write the sanitized version to Betsy. One would get trashed and the other sent.
Until the night our chopper crashed and Mike Dial almost died in my fucking arms. When we finally made it back to base, I was still too shaky to even consider catching some shut-eye, so I sat down to write a letter to Major.
This time I sent it, and I was so glad I did. He immediately wrote back and sent us a huge box of goodies, along with regaling us with tales of drive-up hamburgers and frosty milkshakes, listening to music on the radio that wasn’t two years old, and being able to wander off the base without a sidearm. It helped pass the time so much, I cursed myself for not having written him sooner.
When my DEROS approached toward the end of my first tour and I learned I’d be home in time for the twins’ second birthday, I finally knew what it was like to be a short-timer. It was like walking on eggshells, trying everything in your power not to get killed or hurt.
The day finally came, and I was grateful to learn right before leaving that Lynch would be stateside within another month too. After a trip home to Hobie, I was to be stationed at Fort Sam Houston where combat medics were trained. I was under no illusion that would be the end of my time in Vietnam. As a volunteer rather than a draftee, I was committed to three years in the army, which meant the likelihood of my final year being back in country was high.
But in the meantime, I was going home to Texas, and I couldn’t have been happier.
I thought of Major Marian and the fact we’d only be 250 miles away from each other. In fact, if I drove the back-roads way, Fort Wolters was on my direct route between Hobie and Fort Sam.
Would that be strange? Seeing each other under normal circumstances instead of in a Huey under fire or sitting between sandbags in a bunker? What would we do exactly? Eat a steak at a restaurant and talk about old times?
It didn’t matter. The closer I got to home on my long journey back, the more I knew I needed to see him before long, if for no other reason than to assure myself he was alive and well.
But first, I was flying home to my wife and babies. The ranch. My parents and all the people in town who’d sent me off with such pride. Thankfully, the people of Hobie were patriotic and proud of men and women who served, so I’d never gotten the feeling of hate and resentment that so many of my bigger-city friends got from home.
Sure enough, when my father’s Chevy truck drove us into the town square, it was awash with red, white, and blue. I’d learned from my dad on the drive from Dallas that another kid from my high school was returning the same day. Tony Trevino had apparently lost an eye over there and had gotten a medical discharge. My dad went on and on about how awful it was for poor Tony, but all I could think was how much worse he could have had it. At least he still had his legs, his sanity, his life. I didn’t correct my father, however. It was the first experience I had with keeping my Vietnam stories buckled up tight.
There were picnic tables set up on the lawn of the square, and townsfolk were gathered together on a gorgeous spring day in Texas. After Dad parked the truck and led me toward the center of the square, I spotted her.