By What is Sure to Follow Read online

  “Just keep a lid on it, Luke,” he admonished himself. In trying madly to understand these feelings, it hit him that each of these men was important to him in a way that was difficult, if not impossible, to put into words. They shared something greater than themselves, he realized, but couldn’t put it together in any meaningful way. Without thinking, he physically backed off from the group. But avoidance didn’t work. Each time he tried to move away, he found himself drawn closer. Part of him needed to remove himself immediately from this whole scene and the emotions it evoked; but another part would not let him leave, not yet.

  As the bus departure time grew near, Luke noticed everybody’s mood changed, even his. Some guys got real “talkitee,” some got tears in their eyes and spoke with thick voices, and some became very quiet with their body language showing the effect of the impending separation. He guessed he belonged to this last group, except that he didn’t think his body showed any outward sign.

  Showing emotion in his family, he reminded himself, was just not done, not then, not now. He had many years of practice hiding how he felt and he tried to put it to practice today.

  His training at putting a wall between him his emotions and the outside world had always worked before, but today it didn’t. He found himself strangely drawn into clipped conversations with guys with tears in their eyes, with fellahs talking way too fast, and he found himself making small talk even with the other quiet types. Equally surprising was that he hugged many of them as goodbyes were said and as tears ran down his face.

  He couldn’t remember ever acting like this before, much less hugging guys, not even in football. Not sure what he felt, but knowing he had no choice, his barriers were down and he felt close to them. He cared for them. His upset stomach churned madly as he worked his way through the milling crowd. As he caught each friend’s gaze, he felt his eyes go misty. He found himself staring briefly then nodding before he broke the stare, moved on through the crowd, his goodbyes already said. The whole experience was alien to him, and yet somehow familiar and reassuring.

  Finally everyone began boarding the buses, their goodbyes said, their parents’ addresses noted, and their duty addresses exchanged. Everyone took on the facade of experienced, tough Marines–veterans of many campaigns, proud and, most importantly, Marines in control once again: mean mothafuckers. Semper Fi.

  You’d never guess that ten minutes ago everyone acted the way they did, Luke reflected to himself as he pushed the scene from his mind. He climbed aboard the bus and sat about half way toward the back. “Boy I’m glad that’s behind me,” he said out loud.

  The Marine next to him replied. “You and me both, bro.” Luke was surprised to hear an answer; he thought he had only thought the statement. Turning to his right, Luke saw the big, black Recon smiling at him. “I hear you, Andy,” said Luke with a grin. The broad smile on the man’s face and perspiration on his brow told Luke that they both felt the same way. Luke now felt great.

  At that moment it hit him, as if needing to reaffirm their status as Recons, Luke yelled, “We are the elite of the Marine Corps–Recon Marines...Mean mothafuckers!” He yelled again, this time louder and. more forceful. “Who are we?”

  The reply from his comrades shook the bus and carried for some distance: “We are Recon Marines–Mean mothafuckers!” The chant continued on for several minutes. Resounding throughout the bus for several more minutes once the chant was over were whistles and loud growling sounds. Luke had succeeded in breaking the tension they all had felt. He saw proud smiles on his friend’s faces. He felt better than he could ever remember feeling before. He belonged.

  A breeze came through the open window of the gray, ugly Navy bus as they drove to the San Diego airport. Luke felt his uniform beginning to dry. He opened the front of his jacket and allowed the wind access to his wet shirt. It felt good. Muscles that had been taut all morning began to relax.

  Camp Pendleton, Camp Del Mar, and all the other training commands now belonged to the past. With his duffel bag in the overhead rack and his order packet tucked beside him, the thought occurred to Luke that he was really on his way overseas RIGHT NOW.

  Luke looked around. He saw joking and loud conversations occurring everywhere on the bus; smiles abounded, where none had been before. Rapid conversations seemed to consume everyone. Everyone was in a partying mood.

  Luke noticed the blue-ness of the sky for the first time in days. Leaning back against the straight-back seat, he took a deep breath of air; it was fresh; his mind was crystal clear as he reflected on what was happening around him.

  Another adventure was beginning. He felt excited. All the Stateside training was now over, all the lectures and belittling by his DIs; all of it was behind him. Now he was a respected Force Recon Marine.

  God, it feels great being part of something like this, he thought. A wide grin creased his face. He leaned back in the seat again, this time looking very smug, letting the gentle breeze relax him further. For the first time in his life he felt as though he really and truly belonged. In thinking about it, he thought perhaps I feel this way because I earned the right to wear the Recon insignia–or maybe it’s something else. He didn’t let the thought worry him. All he knew for sure was he felt real good. As he looked around, he noticed everyone else seemed to be in a good mood too.

  “A i r i g h t,” he growled, stretching the word into a sentence. Huge smiles from his comrades met his gaze as he looked around the bus. There was no need for words. Everyone understood. They rode in silence the last few minutes to the airport.

  Finally the bus pulled up in front of the air terminal. They began to straighten their uniforms, getting ready to face the world.

  As they stepped on to the curb at the passenger-loading zone, wearing their immaculate Class “A” dark olive green dress uniforms, spit shined black boots and leggings, they were an impressive lot. Each man wore the familiar paratrooper insignia above his left breast pocket and dangling below it were his marksmanship medals. Luke guessed they must look just as imposing as Sergeant Davis had to him on that first day of boot camp. He felt proud as the group headed to the military liaison desk to pick up their commercial airline tickets.

  Luke was the first of his group to reach the military desk. He presented his travel orders to the Navy fellah behind the counter without saying a word. The uniformed man didn’t look up at Luke as he began to process Luke’s papers. After a couple of minutes, Luke signed a voucher and was handed a PSA airline ticket to San Francisco.

  The Navy man said in a tired, bored monotone voice, “Report to the military desk at San Francisco airport. They will arrange transportation to Travis Air Force Base for you. That’s your last stop Stateside.” It was obvious to Luke that the man said that phrase to everyone a thousand times a day. Luke didn’t care. He was now on his way.

  The adventure was building. Luke felt the excitement still growing. It pulsed through him much the same as it had as a kid when he had been forced to wait for the rest of his family to get up Christmas morning–only more so. His skin tingled, every square inch of it. He was primed and ready. At that moment he felt so alive and indestructible that he wanted to kick ass and take names. “Let Charlie get in our fuckin’ way,” he whispered to himself as he proudly marched in perfect step with his buddies toward the airline counter at the north end of the terminal.

  As they marched, he wanted to call cadence but abstained, figuring it might be out of place here. Marching through the large terminal caused many civilian passengers to stop and stare. It made Luke’s chest swell with pride. He could tell Waldo and Schmidt felt the same way; their smiles gave them away.

  A couple of very young boys, maybe ten years old, who were with their parents, stopped and stared. Luke could see the awe on their faces. Luke smiled at them. A warm feeling enveloped him as he saw the way they stared at him. Nothing in his life had ever come close to the feeling he felt now.

  Reaching the counter, he checked his duffel bag and got his boarding
pass. After placing all of his papers back in his travel packet, which he had to carry with him, he turned toward his friends. “I’ll meet you in the coffee shop when you’re done.”

  “See you shortly,” said Johan.

  Within a couple of minutes Johan came walking in. “They opened another counter after you left so everyone will be here any moment.”

  “Well, have a seat. Maybe we can eat up all the food before they get here,” said Luke with a big, confident smile.

  Johan was right. Within minutes the coffee shop was crowded with Recons. Luke lit a cigarette and looked around; he thought the civilians probably felt out of place. He knew he did. Sitting on the plushly padded, red cushions felt strange after the hard wooden seats he was used to.

  Most of the food on the menu was considered a delicacy in boot camp and advanced training. To the slim, middle-aged waitress Luke said, “I’d like a bacon-cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate shake.” It felt great to be able to order real food again.

  “Make that two cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate malt for me,” said Waldo, letting a big, white-toothed smile nearly destroy his face. Johan followed suit, ordering the same as Waldo. “Just think,” he said after the waitress was gone, “in a few minutes we’ll be on our way. I mean really on our way.” The small town kid inside him was again getting the best of him. Luke smiled.

  “Yeah,” said Luke. “It won’t be long now. I wonder what it will be like–Nam I mean.” A long moment of silence consumed the table. Luke could tell that Johan was no longer at the table, his face was clouded over, lost in thought. Luke wondered what he was thinking. Before anyone could speak, another group of Recons entered the coffee shop. They immediately yelled their greeting to Luke’s group. Luke’s question was forgotten as the men began joking with one another.

  As the waitresses busily moved about trying to serve all of them, Luke noticed that it was time to board the flight. “It’s time you guys,” Luke said, looking at his two friends for their reaction. “We’d better start heading toward the plane now.”

  Johan looked at his watch and added, “You’re right. Let’s shuffle out of here.”

  The excitement returned to Luke; pulsing through his veins was almost more energy than he could handle. He grabbed his belongings and yelled, “Last one to Vietnam is a scumbag, puke faced maggot!” and headed for the cashier’s stand. Behind him he heard hisses followed by groans and “Ah, shit, we don’t have time to finish this!” and “We’ll catch you later,” coming from a small group of Recons sitting off to the side.

  Marching as he headed toward Gate 67, and his waiting flight to San Francisco, Luke noticed that Johan and Waldo were at his side, already in perfect step with him. He grinned, and they grinned back. The two spotless soldiers yelled loudly in typical Marine fashion, “Where are you goin’ Marine?”–even though they were right next to him. They were approaching their boarding gate as he yelled back in his most manly, loud voice, “To victory, you sonofabitches!”

  The attractive attendant at their gate looked at Luke with a very unforgiving look as she silently issued his boarding pass. He blushed slightly and then remembered he was now a Recon Marine and that he shouldn’t blush. Then his face turned a deeper shade of red.

  Luke quickly went through the boarding gate, trying not to look the attendant in the eyes. Johan, unaware of Luke’s embarrassment, tried to linger near the attractive woman. Luke ignored Johan’s patter with her and went on toward the plane. Within moments Johan caught up, a huge smile covering his face. “She’s nice,” said the farm boy. Both Luke and Waldo laughed and shook their heads. All still in perfect step, they crossed the pavement to the huge plane, and climbed the boarding ramp.

  A few minutes later four other Marines from their training unit came on board. Seeing their greetings, other passengers must have thought that they hadn’t seen each other in years.

  As they passed Luke’s group, Waldo chided them at being slow. “You’ll bring up the rear in Vietnam, too.” A smile flashed on his face as he added, “You want some toilet paper. If you’re going to be back there, you might as well make yourself useful.” Cat howls erupted, followed by laughter as the new arrivals took their seats.

  “It’s not who gets there first, assholes,” said one of the late arrivals. “It’s knowing how to kick ass once you get there.” Laughter erupted again.

  Strangely, after settling in, the Marines became quiet as they waited for take-off. The change in disposition was so noticeable, and so hushed, that some of the civilian passengers looked around to see what was wrong.

  Luke knew most of the Recons hadn’t flown much, except for traveling to various training commands. Luke had been on a civilian plane only once before: that was long ago to visit his grandmother just before she died. Scanning faces, he noticed all of his friends trying to look casual, like experienced flyers. He smiled to himself.

  To ignore the impending takeoff, Luke opened his travel orders and read them carefully for the first time–they were extremely vague on everything except his final destination. The “how-to” portion of his orders did not exist. He began to appreciate the importance of the military desk at the airport.

  Nowhere on his orders was Travis Air Force Base mentioned! With that revelation, he felt the first jerk of the plane as it taxied out on the runway.

  Just as the stewardesses finished the explanation of the emergency procedures, Waldo started softly singing in his tenor voice, the Air Force Song–“Here we go, through the wild blue yonder, flying high...” He continued singing until the plane was high in the air. Either no one except Luke noticed him singing or cared enough to look his way or they were concerned with the take-off themselves. Luke guessed it was Waldo’s way of stayin’ cool. The singing helped keep all their minds off the engine noise and the strange vibrations, as the plane made its way skyward, piercing the blue California sky.

  Once airborne, each Marine purchased his allotment of two alcoholic drinks. The time passed quickly. Before they knew it, the plane was taxiing up to the gate in San Francisco.

  At the baggage area, they quickly claimed their duffel bags as they headed to the military desk. The next task was to find out how they were to get to Travis Air Base. None of them even knew which state it was in, much less how to get there. The person at the counter looked tried. He said casually, sounding like a recording, “Go out the main exit on the lower level and turn right. At the far right you will see a gray military bus–board it and wait.” Without a word, the trio grabbed their gear, tossed their bags over their shoulders, and followed directions.

  Soon the bus driver arrived. He started the bus and drove off, ignoring his passengers completely. Luke didn’t have a clue as to how long the trip would take. As they rode, everyone made small talk about shared moments during Recon training. They spoke about girls back home, and about how they’d miss special foods where they were going and so on.

  It was late afternoon as the bus pulled to a stop in front of the Transit Barracks at Travis Air Force Base. An Air Force sergeant of some sort–Luke didn’t know what all the stripes meant–took a copy of their travel orders as they stepped from the bus.

  “Listen up. You have Base privileges while you are here. I have no idea how long it will take for you to be shipped out–so don’t ask,” he firmly told them. Seeing the look on the men’s faces, he softened, and then added “It’s my guess that some of you might go tomorrow and others might take three or four days.” He showed them the bulletin board where all travel orders would be posted. “Check it at least three or four times daily,” he said. “And be ready to leave on a two-hour notice.” Luke watched as everyone nodded agreement.

  It really was a transit barracks, Luke saw. Men from all the services were bunked there. The man on the bunk below Luke was Navy, and across from him were several Army types. Recons didn’t associate with anyone but other Recons. At nightfall the Recons all straggled somewhat together over to the mess hall for dinner and then back again.r />
  At about 18:00 hours a sailor came excitedly in the barracks. Quickly he announced, “A new list of departures for tomorrow has been posted.” Luke watched as the man then hurriedly went to a sailor several bunks down and spoke excitedly.

  With that Luke vaulted off his bed and went to check it out. Pushing his way through the other transients near the bulletin board, Luke quickly scanned the list. His name and his two buddy’s names were on the list. Excitement began to pulse through his body. Luke quickly ran back to tell his friends.

  “Okay you hard-core Recons,” Luke said. “Listen-up. Your time is at hand. We leave tomorrow morning at 0610 hours.” With that Waldo let out a howl and then punched Luke in the shoulder. Waldo’s now famous grin showed all of his white teeth.

  “You best not show those teeth to the Viet Cong, Waldo,” said Luke. “At night they’ll think they’re search lights. And you’ll get your teeth shot out,” Luke continued as he faked a jab at Waldo.

  “You white boys are all the same. Juz ’cause your entire body is a beacon, you think someone with healthy teeth has a problem. We’ll see who loses his teeth first, white boy,” said Waldo, a smile once again spread across his face.

  Luke’s mood got serious for a moment. “We’ll be flying on a MATS flight,” he said, “whatever that is.”

  “Beats me,” said Johan. It wasn’t long before they learned that it was an acronym for Military Air Transport Service. With that knowledge they decided to go to the base theater and watch “A Fist Full of Dollars,” starring Clint Eastwood. Walking back to the barracks after the movie, Luke commented, “It’s just what I needed. I enjoyed watching all those bad guys bite the dust.”