Remember Charlie?

[Hannah]

Chapter I - Goodnight Saigon

[Hannah]

Jack: The base camp wasn’t far from the landing place fort he choppers. The new arrivals (us) had soon been introduced to the tropical heat, the moist atmosphere and continuous buzzing of mosquito’s when we had arrived there yesterday. Now we stood in the camp, about 30 men who would form a new platoon lined up with sweat covering our backs and foreheads. Our ‘captain’ lieutenant Dan Taylor, was inspecting the row. I don’t know what he was looking for though; we all looked the same, army boots up to the helmet. Some had a little thing of their own; like a bible or a package of cigarettes squeezed between helmet and the thick band around it. I had the last, and was dying for a smoke. I glanced aside to my companions to keep myself occupied.

Joe: I have my eyes half closed, though eventhough it might not look like it, I’m inspecting the men around me carefully.
My black eyes wander from one of the young men to the next one. I’m not used to this kind of clothes or people.
It takes about another 30 minutes until our dear captain decides this part of whatever it is, is over. My ‘copper’ skin is covered with sweat and the back of my shirt sticks against my skin.
The army was never where I wanted to end up, especially not in Vietnam.. and yet I’m standing here, because they forced me.

Jack: When it seems like we’re finally free to go back to the tents or bunk beds or whatever, lieutenant Dan suddenly speaks up: “Men! Starting today, you are no longer at home, following the war by radio or paper! You’re in it!” He turns to face us “You are in Vietnam! Here you can proove your courage! Your patriotism! Here you can proove to be a hero! You’re here to fight!”
I stare at the man, squinting my eyes slightly. My chest seems to burn. I’m wearing the dog tag necklace with an inscription of name, age, platoon etc. like any other. But on the same chain is a small iron peace sign, the nuclear disbarment sign. It’s burning my skin as Dan Taylor speeches.
“Any questions?!” The lieutenant shouts eventually. A chorus of “Sir no sir” Sounds, but I speak up instead. Something makes me. Maybe it’s the necklace.
“I have a question, sir!!” I shout.

Joe: My eyes dart over to the guy who dares to open his mouth now. I’ve seen him before, when I was looking at the men, but now I take my time to take a closer look at him.
His hair is short like that of the rest of us and he has dark eyes. If he hadn’t spoken up, I would have said he’s a pretty boy. One of these guys of whom all the girls at high school and college dream of.

Jack: “Soldier!” The lieutenant shouts back at me, in a way to tell me to go ahead and ask.
“Who the hell are we fighting, sir?!” I shout. The sign burns, hotter than the merciless sun. For a few long seconds everyone seems to be deadly silent. I feel at least a dozen pairs of curious eyes on me. I straighten my back, making myself taller.
“What the heck do you mean, Soldier?” Taylor snaps. His eyes are shooting fire.
“Who are we fighting?” I don’t shout now.
“The Vietcong!” Taylor snaps, not sure what kinda question this is.
“Why, sir?!” I ask shortly.
“What?!” He seems to be about to explode.
The sign seems to leave a mark in my chest. “What did the Vietcong do to *me* sir?!” I shout.

Joe: A bitter smirk of agreement appears on my face. I don’t care about the Vietcong or this war. It’s not *my* war.
I wait for the answer of the lieutenant now. He doesn’t seem to be pleased about this, which doesn’t surprise me at all actually.
I could use a cigarette now. The guy is brave though, that he dares to provoke Taylor on the first day. I like that somehow.

Jack: Taylor stares me down, or attempts to, but I look right back at him without even wavering. There’s no smile on my face, but my eyes are squinted slightly in a challenging expression.
“What’s your name, soldier?!” Taylor asks.
“Sparrow” I reply calmly.
“Taylor nods thoughtfully. “.. watch your step, Sparrow” He warns “I could make your life down here living hell, is that understood?”
“Sir, yes sir.” I tap my helmet. I doubt he could make the hell down here *worse*.
“Platoon dismissed!” Taylor shouts then, so all the men soon wander to the tents again to prepare for tomorrow… when they’ll head into the jungle.

Joe: I take a package of cheap cigarettes from under my helmet and light one. I hold my helmet under my arm, running with my hand over my short hair. It used to be til my shoulders, but they made me shave it off.
My gaze wanders over to the men who return to their tents and I follow them slowly, not too eager to get back there.

Jack: The tent in which ‘my’ bunk bed is, is buzzing with activity as soldiers are packing their bags or writing a last letter to their mother. I want to do neither and outside, but near the tent, I sit down. I take of my helmet as well and snatch my cigarettes from the band. A small paper falls down as well but I stuff it back behind the narrow belt of the helmet. ON it are some lyrics. Of a protest song. Ironically.
I look for my lighter but cant find the damn thing.

Joe: I spot the Sparrow in frond of one of the tents and hold my lighter right before his face when he cant seem to find his own.

Jack: I look up to the guy, having to squint my eyes to be able to see him against the sunlight. “Thanks” I light my cigarette and hand back his lighter before I take a drag.

Joe: “You’re welcome” I tell him and push the lighter into my pocket again. I have a slight accent because English is not the first language I leaned. I was born and raised on one of the Indian reservations, not too far from the Canadian border.

Jack: “Where are ya from?” I ask after another drag. I spotted his accent but I don’t recognize it. And I bet he must be American cos what kinda idiot would fight for America without *having* to in this war?

Joe: I sit down on the ground “North Dakota” I tell him since most likely he wouldn’t know the name of the reservation anyways.
“You?” I ask him, taking a drag of my cigarette.

Jack: “California” I reply. It sorta surprises me he’s talking to me, cos I thought not many would after that scene with Taylor ealier.
I consider that a bonus though; cos I don’t want to be rubbing shoulders with these trigger-happy fellows. Not with those in strong favour of the war.
But I guess it means something that this guy still helped me out with that lighter.
“Jack Sparrow” I therefore introduce myself, extending my hand for a shake. “What’s your name?”

Joe: I hesitate for a moment “Stonehorn” I tell him then and shake his hand It’s not my ‘real’ name. At least not according to the laws of the white men, but to me it is *my* name. I don’t like the name the white people have me, because it doesn’t reflect who I am.
“They call me Joe here.. Joe King.”

Jack: “Indian?” I figure, after taking my cigarette from my lips with the hand that he just shook. I tap some ask of and look at him curiously “And what should *I* call ya?” I ask, cos I don’t care what *they* call him here that much: A guy’s gotta have one name he prefers, right?

Joe: I take a deep drag from the cigarette and nod at his first assumption. I watch him for a moment and shrug then. “Whatever suits you best” I tell him.

Jack: Stonehorn is long, so I shrug. “How ‘bout ‘Stone’, will that do?” I smirk.

Joe: I smirk slightly “Yea, sure.” I shrug. It’s a plus point for him though that he didn’t decide to call me the ‘English’ name.

Jack: I finish my cigarette and flick it away before glancing back to Stone’s tan face. “So how did you end up in this shithole?” I ask, wondering whether he volunteered or was called for duty like me. My words reflect my opinion against the war again slightly. I can’t help it, I sorta formed it from the very second the war started and it won’t change now that I’m here.

Joe: I look down at the black boots I’m wearing and a bitter smirk appears on my face. “It was an easy way to get rid of me.” I tell Jack and drop my cigarette, stepping on it with the heel of my boot.
For a moment I consider if I should light another one, but I don’t have that many left and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get new ones, so I don’t.
“Not.. everyone liked me back home. Especially the Superintendent happened to think I was no good for the reservation.. and then the war came..”

[Jacky]

"Why were you no good?" I ask. I'm probably nosy, but he's making me wonder so why shouldn't I ask? If he doesn't want to tell he's got the mouth to let me know that, right? Right.

[Hannah]

He does ask a lot.. I study his face once more, not sure how much I should tell him about this business in the first place. I pick up a twig without looking at it and move it between my fingers slowly.
"Because they thought I was a thief.." I eventually say.

[Jacky]

"That sucks." I state, cos the way he puts it, he implies that he in fact wasn't. I don't care whether he is or not, it's none of my business on that account. I draw my helmet onto my lap and take the package of cigarattes (Marlboro) again, opening it and taking out one cigarette. I toss him the package so he can take one too.

[Hannah]

I catch the package, hestiating for a second again though to take one. I am used to people pittying me.. giving me tips for doing nothing.. just because I'm an Indian.. I hate it when they do that. It always gives me the urge to stick the money right into their throat.
I turn the package in my hands, dropping the little twig again.
The hestiation was too short for Jack to notice and I take one of the cigarettes out of the package once I turned it around entirely once. Guess he is the only 'friend' I got here. If you can call it a friend. I smirk bitterly.
"Thanks." I put the cigarette between my lips and toss the package back to him.

[Jacky]

"No problem." I tell him. I stuff the package back where I took it, the lyrics page falling for a moment but I put it back where it should be as well.

[Hannah]

My eyes darted over to the little paper for a split second, not mentioning it though when he stuffs it away right again. Maybe it is a letter to his girl or something.
I take out my lighter and once I lit my cigarette I take a deep drag from it. Then I toss the lighter over to Jack, seeing he didn't have one before.

[Jacky]

We sit there smoking in silence for quite a few minutes. When I finished my second cigarette I stub it out on the ground. "So.. jungle tomorrow, right?" I ask, cos Taylor made it clear that the next day we're gonna leave the basecamp. It'll really start happening then.

[Hannah]

"Yea.." I nod and look down at my cigarette which is almost finished by now. I tried to figure him out for quite a while now, but it is harder to 'read' him then other people here. I think my previous statement, that he might have been a pretty-boy is wrong..
I finish the cigarette. "You have a family?" I eventually ask him.