Melodramatic Guardians
The intense melodrama is embarrassing in retrospect, but
emotionalism is a fault common to youthful idealists; and all
three conditions would be unimaginably destroyed by future
events. The troop ship that transported our unit docked at
various ports to off-load other elements before our
disembarkation, and the war was a remote spectacle arrayed for
our survey from the crowded rails. We'd already been the subject
of rockets and mortars impacting the harbors, and witness to the
fire dance retaliations of snakes 'n' napes, of
Puff and Spooky. When my people were gathered,
I directed them to look to either side, with the admonition that
not everyone would survive this tour or return home the same, and
gave them the instruction to rely upon the man beside them.
Later, after weeks in the field, we were on stand-down when I
noticed that the FOB was unusually quiet and vacant; so I decided
to wander-off to the nearby MACV compound for some companionship.
An enterprising Viêtnamese capitalist had converted a small
French-style house near the compound into a saloon, and there,
admixed with bluelegs and redlegs, with clerks
and drivers, with mechanics and technicians, with medics and
advisors, sat my troops. I called them forth from the
mélange to inform them that I was not authorized to be
there, so could not possibly know if they had
been there; but no matter what else happened, no one would return
alone, and no one would be left behind. This exquisite
paternalism wasn't endearing, and it could not bridge the
multiplicity of chasms imposed by military structure ... neither
would it save lives. Despite the personal concern that prompted
the emotional injections, the experience of our shared exposure
and mutual dependency would not make us friends. In fact, I
didn't like some of those men, and many did not like me; but we
were comrades. We'd worked together and compensated for each
other's weaknesses. We'd shared more hardship and discomfort than
most people ever know. We'd suffered more stress and anxiety than
we ever thought possible. We'd been more intimate than lovers,
and closer than most of us would ever be with our spouses. We
knew things about each other that nobody else knew, and that none
of us had suspected. We'd seen the best and the worst, and that
knowledge has changed us ... making us impatient and pensive,
practical and noble, angry and grateful, curious and wise. The
distinction of comradeship is not that we were lifeguards in a
chaotic crucible, but that we can be trusted to preserve and
protect those hellish memories. We were willing to die because we
trusted someone to remember our precious reputations. Comrades
are guardians of honor.
by Pan Perdu
... who is a former soldier and VA counselor; this work has been
excerpted from Fragmentations, a book in progress.
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