By What is Sure to Follow Read online

Page 5


  Looking over the signed forms, the Marine said, “You are due to report in ninety days to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot in San Diego. Ninety days should give you plenty of time to get your personal affairs in order.”

  Luke agreed by simply nodding his head. Events were moving almost too fast for him. Luke watched as the sergeant put Luke’s induction papers in his desk drawer.

  Realizing what had just happened, Luke quickly reached over the desk and took the papers from the sergeant’s drawer and hastily said, “Wait a minute. Not so fast. First let’s talk about what my job will be.”

  For the next hour the sergeant explained all of the different jobs to Luke. The Marine spoke with particular reverence for the Recon Marines of which he was one.

  Then Luke asked, “What’s so special about them, anyway?”

  Almost looking insulted, the Marine said, “Force Reconnaissance Marines are the elite of the Marines Corps.” He then paused before adding, “Not just some faceless slime bag, but part of a highly trained team of professionals that nobody fucks with.” The recruiter then explained that Force Recon was supposedly equal to the Army's Green Beret or the Navy Seals, but he thought Force Recon could kick their asses.

  That was it. When Luke heard those words, he decided he wanted to be a Recon Marine. He could feel his heart speeding up. He smiled.

  The recruiter explained further: “Even though I can put down ‘Recon Marine’ in your induction papers, it will be up to you to qualify. In the Corps everybody is first a Marine and then they go into a specialty. I suggest that you don’t put Recon on your papers right now.” He explained that if he did it might cause him problems in boot camp. “Make your request to be Recon after you’re sure you’ll qualify,” the sergeant explained. This didn’t bother Luke at all. He kind of liked the idea: that it was a kind of rite of initiation, like for a frat house, seemed right. After all, he’d be joining an elite team.

  Luke smiled broadly for the first time as he handed back the papers to the rugged looking Marine. Heartily, he shook the sergeant’s outstretched hand.

  “Congratulations,” said the Marine sergeant, “you’re now a Marine.” A huge smile radiated from Luke’s attractive face; he felt good.

  “Thank you,” beamed Luke. The Marine simply nodded as he released Luke’s hand. The recruiter then took Luke’s draft notice that was still laying on the desk and said, “Don’t worry about this. I’ll notify the Army.” Luke smiled.

  After a momentary pause, Luke left the recruiting office, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t worry as he walked across the parking lot to his car. After all he was a United States Marine. Nobody would fuck with him now!

  3

  THE DAYS BETWEEN HIS MEETING WITH THE RECRUITER AND his day to report for duty had passed in a drunken, partying haze. Finally the day had arrived.

  “Park over there,” Luke said softly as he pointed to the side of the road. Sheri nodded and slowly negotiated the car next to the curb. She turned off the ignition and sat silently, staring straight ahead, holding the steering wheel in a death grip with both hands.

  Luke’s nervousness showed through as he sat rigidly upright next to her. He wanted to speak, but had nothing more to say.

  A long silence punctuated their mood. Then Luke nervously offered as casually as he could muster, “Well I guess this is it.” Slowly Sheri released the wheel. She turned to face him. New tears ran down her strained face. Her eyes were puffy and her makeup was smeared from countless blotting with her hanky. Her hand moved hesitatingly as she touched his cheek. A sob escaped her lips.

  Instantly the air in the car seemed stale to Luke. He couldn’t breathe without great effort. Suppressing panic, he forced himself back into control and slowly turned toward her.

  The look of love in her eyes changed his mood. He felt himself smile; momentarily he felt at ease. He found his arms reaching for her, tenderly embracing her. As he pulled her close to him, he felt her body heaving as she now silently sobbed. He wanted to comfort her more, to make things better, but he couldn’t change things. Feeling light headed and afraid he might faint, he released her in a pushing-jerking motion and opened the car door and stepped out. Fresh air assailed his senses; it helped him regain resolve.

  Sheri sat on the edge of the car seat, sobbing openly. His actions confused her. She watched him closely. As though unsure of what to do next, he stood in the open car door, careful not to touch her. Then with great effort, he turned slowly away from the car. Instantly his heart began to race as though about to burst. Images assaulted his mind. His skin tingled as he studied the life-changing sight in front of him.

  The main gate to the MCRD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot) stood a few yards away. “I’m sure I’ll remember today’s date for a long time to come,” he said out loud as Sheri watched. Behind him Sheri simply nodded as more tears ran down her face. It was April 12, 1966. A desperate look at his watch told him it was only 7:20. He still had plenty of time. The orders he had in his shirt pocket said to report no later than 8:00.

  The sun was up now, although just barely, bringing with it fresh color to the serene San Diego landscape. Birds sang cheerfully in nearby trees. Luke noticed none of this; in his mind, the word Marine kept echoing, reinforced by everything he saw, Marine Guards, military vehicles and on and on.

  Gaining courage, Luke walked purposefully to the sentry at the main gate and without speaking presented his induction notice, looking clumsy as he did it, his nerves showing. After examining the paper briefly, the guard said, “Please report to Staging Area A. It’s just across the blacktop. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks, I will,” said Luke. “I’ve got to say goodbye first.” He motioned over his shoulder. The guard smiled and nodded. When Luke returned to Sheri’s car, she was standing next to it, looking lost. He held her hand in his and smiled his bravest smile for her. She returned it and then sniffled, dabbing her nose with the hanky she held.

  The recruiter had told him to bring only his shaving kit and the clothes on his back. Everything else would be provided, he had said. So he had no real luggage. Sheri tried to hold her emotions in check as she handed him his small black shaving kit, one he’d had for years. They stood close together for perhaps a minute, never saying a word. He saw new tears flood down her ashen-colored face; her shoulders slumped further as she released her hold on him. Sheri was beyond words or reasoning. Nothing Luke could say would help.

  “Boy, how I hate moments like this,” he thought as his hands fell lifelessly to his sides. He felt his stomach tying itself in grotesque knots. He didn’t say another word to her; he couldn’t if he wanted to. It hurt so bad he felt like doubling over. Fighting it, he remained erect, although bent slightly, turned and walked toward the gate. He felt like a kid again, suffocating. He felt the panic again, and the familiar clamminess to his skin.

  “I tried to get her not to come so I wouldn’t have to go through this,” he told himself as he began to walk; his lips moved but there was no sound as he said, “But she wouldn’t even consider not coming.”

  He sped up his pace.

  He felt the full force of the old feeling he’d felt many times before. A feeling of a lack of oxygen, and much more–the feeling of being a caged and tortured animal engulfed him. It was always the same feeling whenever his emotions surfaced too much. At moments like this Luke was unable to think clearly.

  All he could think of was escape. Maybe this is why until Sheri he’d never had a long term relationship. He fought hard to regain control, and after a few desperate attempts, he was back in command. A wall now separated him from his emotions, from the pain they evoked. Luke had to be in control! He quickened his pace as he walked, not once looking back.

  Last night had been extremely taxing on both of them. Even though he had told her of his enlistment shortly after the time he did it, he wouldn’t let her tell anyone. He kept going to classes and partying just like before. It wasn�
��t anybody’s business but his. Doing it this way, too, he was able to avoid thinking about it. The only reason he had told Sheri was that she thought it was something to do with her. Her reaction to his moodiness flashed in his mind as he continued to walk across the blacktop.

  “If it’s something I did,” she had said, “I’d prefer to just break it off immediately, rather than spoil a good thing.”

  So he had had to tell her. He winced as he remembered. A sudden pain shot through him, causing him to almost stumble. He hated emotional confrontations. “It has nothing to do with you,” he remembered telling her.

  “Then what is it?” she had asked. She sounded puzzled.

  “I joined the Marines yesterday. I did it to avoid the draft notice I got from the Army. It really has nothing to do with you. Really.” The last word had a pleading tone to it, seeking her understanding, and much more.

  She had taken it better than he thought she would. At first she had just said, “Oh, I understand,” and he had left it at that. As his induction date grew closer, Luke reflected, she wanted to spend more and more time with him. That was okay because he was in love a lot. Luke found in it the release he needed.

  Whether the sex had become better or worse was debatable, but it had been definitely different. Luke had been just as horny, and Sheri was still just as beautiful and satisfying. Luke often thought about the difference, even now as he walked across the parade ground, but still couldn’t put it into words.

  As the Marine compound passed beneath Luke’s feet, a strange fear engulfed him. “Will Sheri become a thing of the past–just like all my other friends?” he pondered. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he continued to walk. The thought of losing her sent uncontrollable shivers through him. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he felt the anxiety building and clawed his way back in control once again. He wiped more sweat on his sleeve and continued briskly walking. A determined look, highlighted by his set jaw, focused straight ahead as he walked.

  He couldn’t look back or he would lose control again. Down deep, however, he knew she would be there until long after he was gone. Approaching the staging area, he felt as though he was going into another dimension, and as he moved forward all thoughts of Sheri strangely began to fade. He didn’t realize it was happening. He felt a strange dread. He had refused to let her talk about what might happen or anything about Vietnam. He just pushed it from his mind and refused to think about it. Deep inside, he felt strangely comforted by the fact that Sheri would be waiting.

  The activity of the staging area up ahead became his focus; excitement again tingled throughout his body. Adrenaline flowed into his every crevice; his heart pounded a frenzied rhythm that prepared him for action.

  Up ahead, Luke saw a number of people milling about the staging area. Their countenance told him they felt as lost and detached as he felt. Not all of them appeared as keyed up as he felt, Luke reflected– some looked terrified, others seemed to be meditating or lost in thought. Some, Luke noticed, seemed as though they couldn’t care less.

  Ten minutes before eight o’clock a bus pulled up and unloaded a number of male passengers. All of them wore civilian clothes, Luke observed. They joined the group with Luke and started milling around, looking like nervous lambs in a slaughter pen. Luke quickly ignored their presence and began to study his surroundings. It was then that he saw him–a very sharply dressed Marine marching toward them. As the Marine covered the last fifty or so yards across the compound, Luke had to admit that he was one impressive Marine.

  The Marine stopped smartly in front of the group and stood motionless–at attention. Luke watched solemnly as the man glanced at his watch and then stood quietly, staring straight ahead. Everyone was eyeing the Marine, Luke realized. The area became quiet. At precisely eight o’clock the Marine took charge.

  “ATTEN-SHUN!” yelled the Marine as he sternly scrutinized the strange group before him. Trying hard to obey the Marine’s orders, everyone stood still while the daily flag raising ceremony was performed on the far side of the compound; a bugle sounded over the PA system. Luke watched approvingly as the Marine smartly held his salute as the flag reached the top of the flag pole. Luke smiled to himself as the flag began to move to the cool morning breeze. Everyone remained frozen until the bugler was finished. Then Luke watched curiously as the Marine dropped his salute and faced the men.

  “I am Sergeant Davis–your DI, your Drill Instructor.” His voice was crammed with authority. “From this day forward you are the property of the United States Marine Corps. As such, you are members of Recruit Platoon 4119 for the duration of basic training–at least for those who survive.” And he didn’t smile while he said it, Luke noticed. “From this day forward I will be everything to you: Father, mother and whatever the hell else I care to be. I will tell you when to shit, when to eat, when to breathe. Without my permission no one is to move so much as a muscle. Is that understood?” Luke swallowed hard as the sergeant’s tone struck a cord in him.

  “Yes, sir,” responded several men halfheartedly.

  “I am not a ‘sir.’ I am a sergeant. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” came the loud reply.

  “I’ve heard pussies yell louder than that,” bellowed the sergeant. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” came the thundering response as the men stood as if their shoes were nailed to the blacktop.

  Several minutes passed as the sergeant formed the men into ranks, belittling them as they tried to follow his orders. Within minutes everyone knew precisely where they stood: they were nothing, and as nothing the sergeant could do anything he pleased with anyone at any time of the day or night. Period.

  The Marine Corps had the induction business down to a science, Luke began to realize. By the end of the first day all of the recruits had all the gear they would need during boot camp, including a rifle–a weapon or piece as they called it. Late in the afternoon the highlight (at least Luke thought so) of the day occurred: Sergeant Davis marched the platoon, if the first day it could be called marching, to the barber shop. It took the six barbers on duty less than ten minutes to cut all fifty-eight recruits’ hair. As Luke stood watching those in that front of him get cut, it amazed him. Six or seven passes with the massive clippers removed all hair from a person’s head. And some of the men had a lot of hair–long hair–and it was gone just as quickly. As he walked away from the chair, Luke saw that all of his blond hair was on the floor, partially mixed with the growing mound of hair that now completely covered the floor.

  Luke rubbed his head with his right hand; his hair was an eighth of an inch long, if that long. He felt strangely naked as he walked out the exit. He looked around at his new teammates. Surprisingly to him, once all their hair was gone, everyone looked the same. Unknown to Luke, it was the first major step in stripping away their past in preparation for giving them their Marine Corps future. Now they looked different from the rest of society; they looked like Marines.

  During week two, one of the recruits started having wet dreams and messed up his bunk. For several weeks the DI rode him about it–calling him “Mr. Lover Hand.” The DI settled on calling Luke “Mr. College” after he found out that he had been a junior in college. The DI always suggested that “Mr. College” thought there was a more educated way to do something.

  Luke almost cracked under the intense pressure, and the confinement. He didn’t tell anybody about it, though, and was sure he was able to hide it well enough that no one suspected. He went through periods, sometimes for days, where he was on the verge of crying. All of his personal thoughts were mixed up in a whirlwind– he felt ashamed for not showing Sheri how much he cared for her, especially on the last day. For some reason it kept coming back to him. He was upset for having acted as though they were just casual friends and that their parting wasn’t a big deal. At times he still felt that way, but then sometimes it hit him square in the face as to how special Sheri was and how much he cared. At those times he want
ed to fall to the ground and cry his eyes out. Outwardly he looked moody and withdrawn, no different from many of the recruits. He didn’t talk to anyone about his feelings and most of the time even refused to think about them because he knew what it would do to him. Luke constantly reminded himself to keep it together and stay cool.

  The military routine also got to Luke. He went through a living hell daily. Just as he began to think that he had some level of control–that he had mastered part of the training–he had his world jerked out from under him. The more the DI rode him, the more he fought back to look calm and together–for appearance’s sake. Underneath, though, he was very near the breaking point. He tried to justify the deadly practices he was learning with the easy going, never-hurt-anybody attitude he’d grown up with. More and more he couldn’t tell the shadows in his mind from the Marine Corps images; he had trouble telling what was real from what they had told him was real. His middle class values were totally confused. He was becoming a brainwashed Marine–believing what they told him to believe. And he didn’t know he was changing. The entire platoon was changing, accepting what the Marine Corps taught.

  Luke found the word “kill’ became an end unto itself, and he had to adjust to it. Everything he did or learned seemed to center on killing. He tried to hold “killing” in abeyance in his mind, and then one day while he sat on the shitter it hit him: “Killing is okay in a military situation–now that I am nearly fully trained,” he said to himself as though it had to be spoken out loud to be valid. Hearing his voice say it, Luke nodded several times as if to say he agreed with the statement. In a strange way it made sense. It was a peculiar way to justify it, but that was the way Luke finally allowed it to become part of him without really touching him.

  In most of the physical training, Luke had excelled. There were two reasons: the most important being that he wanted to be a Recon Marine so badly, and probably the really more important reason was the fact that he was a trained, long-distance runner and varsity athlete. Both of these abilities made him stand out.