|
|
Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 20:20:06 GMT
Max was leaning his forehead against the window of the bus, looking out at the sunny weather. The grass was as green as ever and almost no clouds were on the clearblue sky. Some children played happily on a schoolyard that the bus passed and old people were out with their tiny dogs.
Ironic...
He sighed and looked down in his lap instead, at the paper he had there. It was yesterdays morning-paper, folded so that an advertisement was faced upwards towards him;
WE NEED YOU!
The USA army needs you to join in helping against the war in Vietnam
it said more, but he didn't read it as carefully now. He had already done it over and over again so many times he knew the lines by heart. Amazing how some ink-words on a piece of paper could change you...could help you to decide something. Max had decided. He was on his way to be recruited into that army. He was on his way to the Vietnam War.
His eyes slowly closed as he had been sitting for some hours in this bus already and he drifted asleep.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 20:31:09 GMT
Adam packed the last items that he needed to bring into the big backpack that was sitting on his bed. His toothbrush, a casetteplayer and a package of cigarettes. He pulled the zip closed and swung the bag over his shoulder. Then he took one more glance into the mirror and took a deep breath. This is it, buddy. You're gonna do something with your life.
He had made his decision two weeks ago. And today, all over the countries, busses would ship men to millitary airports. Young men and older men. Black or white. Republicans or Democrats. Orphins, f*ck-ups, scholars and highschool kids looking for adventure. He would be one of them, soon. He didn't know whether he was up to it, but he knew he needed to try.
He needed to settle his mind, at last. And aim for something, before the gutter was all there was left to aim for. Working at a gasstation wouldn't get him anywhere. He wasn't educated. And Vietnam seemed to make sense to him more than anything else.
He snatched the lighter from the desk and slipped it into his jeans, before he walked outta his room. On his way out his 'baby sister', the one year younger Sandra Watson, stopped him before he could go down the stairs.
"Here!" She pressed another casette tape into his hands. "It's the Doors. I'll be wanting it back when you return." She gave him a brave smile, but a doubtful tear shimmered nonetheless. "Write us, okay?"
"All the time." He promised, and he put the tape into his bag. He went downstairs to say goodbye to his 'parents'.. and in an hour, he would stand at the busstop and say goodbye to his life in the suburbians of the li'll town that he had spend the bigger part of his life in.
|
|
|
|
Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 20:46:10 GMT
He awoke painfully when the bus drove over a hole in the road, making his head bump into the window.
"Damn..!" he muttered and looked around. He wasn't alone in the bus, it was actually crammed with people...no, men. All ages, the youngest didnt look to be more than 12, but he knew he couldnt have been. Who would recruit a 12-year old?
He looked out the window and thought about his 'parents' at 'home'. Parents...Home... those words still felt alien to him, but he should have been able to embrace them as something of his own now...but something was hindering...hindering...home...parents...
Soon he woke up again when the driver shouted something over the crunching 'radio' in the bus. They were apparently there now. The airport where they had to report themselves before they would get crammed together again, into an airplane this time, that would take them to Vietnam. He had never felt scared one single moment after he decided to join this army in war. His 'parents' had of course, they had tried to make him change his mind, but the truth of the matter was that he was an adult now and he had the right to make his own decisions and to follow them through. And this was the most important decision he had ever made he felt like, and no one would be standing in his way
"Move, move, move!" one man shouted as he pushed Max's arm.
He snapped out of his thoughts and quickly stood up and grabbed his bag to get out of the bus
|
|
|
|
Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 20:56:57 GMT
It was a six hour drive to the airport, but I couldn't sleep at all along the way. Most of the guys in the bus did though. Nobody really bothered to try and pick up a conversation. No wonder, all of us knew that we would be divided again. At the airport first. Then in Vietnam. And then, eventually, we would be divided among squadrons to serve in the army.
For the first three hours I listened to the tape that Sandra gave me until the battery of my casetteplayer died. The rest of the time I stared out of the window. I was nervous. Real nervous. I wasn't worried about being with strangers or whatever, but I was worried about what Vietnam would be like. The media didn't say much about Americans getting killed there, but in my hometown two families already lost their sons. I didn't want to die yet. And I had never left America before in my life.
When we got to the airport everybody seemed to be relieved to get off the bus. I pushed my way through the crowd, my bag clumbsily hung over one shoulder. I looked around, observing the scene to see what I was supposed to do, and eventually spotted a man in army green writing down names and dividing the men into seperate airplanes and helicopter.
I made my way over to him quickly.
"Hi!"
"Name?"
"Adam Jackson, from.."
"Jackson, you'll be in chopper 14. That way." He points, and he already turned to sign the next up.
"...Fourteen. Okay." I mumble and shift the weight off my bag. I hurried over to the helicopter where a whole bunch of others were already waiting.
|
|
|
|
Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 21:06:37 GMT
He hurried together with the rest of the men from his bus over to a big line to get his name signed up. He had read all he could about this war before he got his foot on the bus to get there himself. He didn't know much before, but he felt a bit more secure now when he read everything he could get his hands on, listening to the radio, to neighbours talking about it etc.
His 'dad' had wondered why he thought he could make a good soldier and he had taken it as a bit of an offence.
"What makes you think you can be a good father? ....I'm sorry...I'm sorry...that was stupid.."
He didn't think about himself as a soldier, eventhough he was on his way to become one now. He didn't do this to kill people...he actually didn't know why he did this, but it was calling him. It was something icecold that had never let him take his gaze away from that advertisement...something called him to this...
All these questions...so few answers
"Name?"
He snapped out of his thoughts when he found himself first in line now, infront of a big man in military clothes.
"Max.- Maximilian Jackson"
"Jackson, get over to chopper 12, over there, Next! Name?"
He looked at where the man had pointed and then hurried over to the chopper where about 6 other men were standing already.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 21:17:02 GMT
Only about an hour later a man approaches our group by chopper fourteen. I'm sitting on my bag by then, my legs crossed in front of me, and I'm smoking a cigarette. Nobody told us we couldn't, so I figured I could use this time to have my last cigarette on America's safe foundation for a while. As the man approaches though, I stub it out and glance over curiously. The rest of the group is bunched together, talking about something, and they don't notice him until he speaks up.
"Men, get into the helicopter. I will accompany you in the back, our pilot will be here soon." He opens the choppers door and is first to climb in.
I pick up my bag and go to the back of the line, being last to climb into the narrow space inside. I put my bag with the others and sit down where there's still space left.
I never flew in my life either, and I'm starting to get curious. What would it feel like, to be so high up in the sky? Will we rise above the clouds? I glance to the man in millitairy clothing from under my eyelashes, but don't dare to ask these questions. I don't want to make a fool of myself.
Then, all of the sudden, the rotor on top of the chopper starts rotating. The engine hums contently and within a few minutes we take off. When we loose contact with the ground I close my eyes and lean back..
Vietnam, here I come.
|
|
|
|
Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 21:23:39 GMT
A man starts counting the men as he makes them hurry into the chopper, giving them a slap on their shoulders as they pass him into the helicopter.
Max sits down in the tight space.
"Exciting, isn't it?" a boy grins towards Max as he sits down beside him. "I mean, I've never been to war before, do you know how it's like?"
"No" he pushes his bag behind him where the other bags are.
"hm, of course not...you don't look that old..how old are you?"
"Hey, listen up!" he sat in the front and looked back at them. "We're waiting for the pilot and then we're off"
Max looked at him and then looked out the window.
Goodbye America
Soon the pilot entered, asked the man beside him if they were all done and he took out some papers and soon they were lifting off the ground.
He had a big grin on his face and looked out the window. "I've never been in one of these"
Max frowned slightly at the man, he was obviously every excited about it all. Himself..well he didn't know what to feel yet..
|
|
|
|
Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 21:33:00 GMT
I must've slept, because the next time I open my eyes we're going through a narrow deck of clouds. And as we descend below it, I can see land underneath us. Miles and miles of green, thick rainforrest. At least that's what it looks like. Somewhere among it I can see a small circle with houses. Smoke rises up from the middle of it. In the distance I can see some thick smoke rising from the forrest as well, but I can't tell what's happening there, so I only assume it's a settlement simular to the one that I see.
I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes, feeling a little nauseous now. I stretch my aching muscles and look at my fellow passengers. Only two of the others are awake. The man in militairy clothing, and a tall man with dark skin, who's clutching what looks like a crucifix. He's mumbling something under his breath. I can only assume that it's the flying that scares a man as tall as him.
"Are we going to be there soon?" I ask the army man, scratching my neck.
"Sooner than you think." He says. He points at the window at the other side.
I peer through it and see nothing at first. But when I look closer I can recognize an army base. Green camouflage tents in rows that seem to go on forever. Men wearing clothes of the same color walking around. I spot a big light brownish tent with a red cross on it - the army hospital.
As soon as I recognized the setting, the helicopter starts to get lower instantly, waking more of the men up now.
|
|
|
|
Post by PirateOTC on Jan 5, 2007 21:39:22 GMT
Max hadn't been able to fall asleep during this long and warm flight. He felt uncomfortable but knew that this was probably nothing to how uncomfortable it would get. Being really close to others was the lifestyle of a soldier in war..from what he had understood.
"God, it's hot in here!" he complained. It wasn't the first thing he had complained about during this flight...
"Well, it's not much colder out there" he nodded towards the ground beneath them, the big forest. "And I suggest you stop complaining. Come back when you're missing an arm"
There was silence in the chopper.
"...I'm kidding, boys. Now prepare to be stretching your legs"
The chopper started getting lower.
He quickly rubbed his one ear. "God, my ear popped again!"
He glances over his shoulder at him, then back to where they'll be landing
Max glances at the man beside him aswell.
If I'm not a soldier...then what is he?
|
|
|
|
Post by Jacky on Jan 5, 2007 21:45:49 GMT
Soon as the chopper landed we're put out of the helicopter. It takes off again when we're walking away from it. And it is only now that I realize how many helicopters and small airplanes are buzzing through the sky. I look up, shieling my eyes against the burning sun, as I watch their silouettes. It's like a swarm of bees, or musquito's.. and it's a sort of scary sight. How do people keep track of their men when there's so many of us here?
But that thought doesn't bug me for long. I'm pretty used to taking care of myself, and minding my own business. Why would I need anybody looking over me now? Vietnam will be different, sure.. but how different can it really get?
"You there! You new?" A guy walks over to me and slaps me on the shoulder. "Yeah you are, go over there and sign yourself up." He points at a tent, where all the new people are slowly moving in a long queue.
I nod and shift my bag again. I go over, and get into the line somewhere in the middle of it. "Hi." I say to the guy in front of me, but only so that I can pretend to know him and the people behind me won't complain.
"Hello." The man turns his back on Adam again, and waits for his turn.
|
|
