By What is Sure to Follow Page 9

  “You think that prepared you for Nam?” asked Waldo.

  Luke wasn’t sure if Waldo was asking the question seriously or not. He decided “not” and replied, “Only if John Wayne is my CO.” Johan and Waldo both laughed.

  Shortly after getting back to the barracks, it was lights outs. Everyone turned in.

  ****

  The small, gold and white travel alarm Luke bought at the PX at MCRD went off at 0500. Quickly Luke sat up and leaned over to the top of the tall, gray locker and turned it off. At first he was disoriented. The dim red night-light of the barracks made everything seem strange. Then as he remembered. He slid off the top bunk and woke Waldo and Johan. A quick shower woke them fully. Dressed, they headed to the mess hall for breakfast. Luke thought there wouldn’t be many people up at this hour. Most of the transit barracks was still asleep when they left. He was surprised. The large mess hall was half full of Air Force personnel just finishing their meal.

  They quickly ate a hearty breakfast of fresh scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. Luke and his buddies returned to the barracks, gathered their gear, and headed to the departure area. With very little to-do, they were directed to catch a small, blue shuttle bus to the boarding area. They were surprised to find the plane was a very bright, totally yellow Braniff Airlines 707 in front of them. The stewardesses were very nice, Luke noticed as he smiled at a pretty blond with medium length hair standing by the door. He liked her mini skirt too.

  Before long the seats were nearly full. Luke stood and looked around. He saw a mixture of all the services, including officers and enlisted men of every rank. The officers sat together up front, but other than that, all the services were mixed together.

  A weird tension floated throughout the cabin. It permeated the invisible air as surely as if it were water. It left a sour taste in Luke’s mouth and a weakness in his loin. He swallowed hard as he felt the huge plane’s brakes release. All of the service men seemed entranced as the huge plane roared down the runway, heading skyward. Luke knew what was on his mind; he was wondering if this would be the last time he would ever touch U.S. soil again. Finally he glanced around. The solemn look on other people’s faces told him they were thinking the same or similar thoughts.

  The mood broke when the intercom clicked-on. “This is Captain Wells. Welcome aboard MATS Flight 235 bound for Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines, via Honolulu, Hawaii. Our total flying time will be about seventeen hours, depending on what head winds we encounter. So relax and have a good flight.” The stewardesses began serving juice, coffee and rolls to the nervous servicemen as the jet streaked westward climbing to its cruising altitude of 38,000 feet.

  Passengers began to talk amongst themselves. Luke pulled out the novel, one he’d bought at a bookstand at the San Francisco airport and lost himself in it.

  Hours later, after lunch was served and after Luke had taken a nap, the speaker cracked again and a Stewardess announced, “We will be landing shortly at Honolulu for refueling. Anybody wishing to deplane may do so, but you must remain in the international boarding area. Be sure to take your boarding pass with you.” It wasn't long before the plane started its decent for landing.

  Most passengers did get off the plane during the refueling, if for no other reason than to stretch their legs. The flight thus far had taken about six hours.

  “Another eleven hours to go,” said Luke to his friends as they re- boarded the plane.

  “We probably won’t be able to walk after the next eleven hours cooped up on this thing,” said Waldo. He already looked exhausted.

  Everyone already looked very tired, thought Luke. “This is indeed going to be a long flight!” he told his friends.

  Then the strangest thing happened. During the remainder of the journey, the longer Luke was in the air, the smaller his seat became. Luke swore it really was happening. There was nothing he could do to stop it either. He tried sleeping–but sleeping all cramped up in a small seat, even though the stewardess provided pillows and blankets, was at best miserable. His seat got so uncomfortable that he started walking up and down the narrow isle, turning sideways often to allow other passengers who had the same problem to pass. “I’ll remember this flight as the worst one I ever took,” he said out loud as he passed one dejected looking stranger. He got nods of approval from all who heard.

  Spontaneous cheers erupted in the passenger cabin when the speaker system finally crackled with the announcement that they would be landing at Clark Air Force Base shortly. Luke felt a wave of energy boost him as he felt the aircraft turning for its final approach. The excitement was building again.

  In a mental haze, the tired servicemen walked down a portable ramp and crossed to the terminal building. Luke saw a sign that read “Welcome to the Republic of the Philippines.” Eagerly scanning the area, he felt his mood drop suddenly.

  Around him it seemed as though he was still in the States. Horizon to horizon all he saw was “American.” He felt his energy dissipate; he was disappointed. Not knowing how long he’d be here, he longed to see something in view that was native–whatever that meant. As he looked closer, he did see some Asian people he guessed must be Filipino. Nothing else appeared abnormal.

  A Marine corporal stood at the door leading to the terminal. He signaled the trio to him. Taking a copy of their orders, he said, “Board the Navy bus over there.” Across the tarmac a single bus awaited the tired men. They got their duffel bags and climbed on board the bus and waited in silence. Once the last Marines were boarded, the bus got underway. Luke didn’t recognize any of the late arrivals. They didn’t go through training with him.

  The vehicle headed out the main gate. It followed the main road west. Strangely painted jeep-looking vehicles constantly passed the slow bus and continued on their way. After a couple of hours, and several side roads, the bus passed beneath a large sign that read “U.S. Amphibious Forces Survival Training Command.” A smaller sign placed off to side of the dirt road read “Counter Guerrilla Warfare Training Center.”

  Luke was too tired to react to the signs; he rode on in silence. The camp was located in a very mountainous region that was densely covered with tropical vegetation. The base couldn’t have been more isolated. Luke guessed that for dozens of miles in any direction only jungle existed.

  A nasty looking gunny sergeant met the bus. He began to speak, unaffected by their expressions. “Welcome to the Counter Guerrilla Warfare Training Center,” he pronounced happily. “I am Sergeant Browski.” All of the Marines felt confused. They stood in silence, not sure what to say or do. Nothing in their orders said anything about more training. “For the next three weeks you will undergo jungle survival training here. You are a test group. If this training helps you survive in-country, we will have achieved our mission. I know this stop for training is a bit of a surprise to all of you, but you’ll thank me when it’s over. Recent experiences of U.S. troops in Vietnam has proven that this training is necessary.”

  With that all the men groaned and threw their duffel bags to the dusty ground. Luke was too numb from the flight to speak.

  “Hey, I know how you feel,” said the Gunny apologetically. “You all thought you were on your way to Vietnam. Believe me you will be there soon enough. This course is scheduled to last three weeks, as I said. Those of you that survive it will be on your way before you know it. Those of you who don’t may leave sooner–in a body bag. You’ll either learn to survive off the land or you will die here.”

  A long moment of silence passed as he let it sink in. Judging by the expressions he saw on everybody’s face, the Gunny felt certain they all took him seriously. Inwardly he smiled. Then he changed the position of his feet slightly and studied the group around him, letting more silence lend emphasis to his coming words.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “in the next few days you’ll learn everything you need to know, such as what plants you can eat, what bugs, lizards, and other creepy crawlies you can eat without being eaten by them. And, most i
mportantly, what to avoid at all costs, such as the green bamboo snake; it can kill you in ten seconds.” Then he quickly added, “Training commences at 0700 tomorrow. Settle yourself in Barracks ‘A’.” The Mess Hall will close in thirty minutes. Dismissed.” He turned and walked away, not waiting for questions.

  Eight small barracks filled the small clearing, each capable of housing twenty-four men. Luke observed that only one barracks was in use–the one he and his friends were assigned to. It looked new, he decided, like it had just been built. Closer examination proved him right. Most of the beds were made up. Luke and the others claimed the remaining empty beds. In no time they had them properly made up and had their gear stowed. Without talking, the tired men then headed to the Mess Hall, one of the other buildings in the clearing.

  A few of their new roommates were there, Luke saw. Judging from their appearance, he guessed they had been here for a while. Most of them wore dirty uniforms, and hadn’t shaved in several days. What struck Luke most oddly was they looked like a bunch of ants, bees or other insects had tried to eat them–and almost succeeded. Swollen bites on their cheeks, ears, noses and any other exposed parts of their bodies added to their image. One man’s left eye was nearly swollen shut. “A pathetic looking group,” Luke whispered to Waldo, who was at his side. Waldo nodded. Strangely, Luke thought, they seemed oblivious to their own condition, talking noisily amongst themselves, almost happily. He noticed their mood was much better than his group’s.

  As they ate Luke found out the men were about to graduate. They had just finished their final exam that day, surviving seven days alone in the jungle without food or water. They had eaten off the land and survived. Each of them had been singly dropped off in different locations out in the jungle and told to walk out.

  “We all made it,” said one of the men with a smile. Luke was happy to hear it.

  “Was it worth it? The training I mean.” The question was asked by one of Luke’s group.

  Several of the new graduates laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Even though I had diarrhea for a couple of days,” answered one of the thin survivors.

  “It was the giant snails and lizards I had to eat that gave me the runs,” said another of the men as he shoveled another mouthful of boiled potatoes into his mouth.

  Luke’s group laughed. “Don’t laugh,” said a man across from Luke. “It’s true. You’ll eat them and lick you fingers afterwards.” Luke hoped that what they were saying was hype. He watched as the haggard men quickly cleaned their plates.

  For the first few days, the new men attended lectures in the mornings and then went out on nature trails in the afternoon. Then they spent several nights out in the jungle. Each session contained precious information that one day might save their lives. As promised. they learned about surviving in southeast Asia. No amount of Stateside training could have prepared them for the conditions they found. Jungle so dense daylight never reached the ground covered huge tracks of land. Plants could grow a foot a day. Other plants could always be relied upon to provide water–even during the dry season.

  Sure enough, during the next three weeks, Luke learned all he would ever need to know about jungle survival. He learned how to make lean-tos for shelter, which plants are good to use for toilet paper–and which ones cause a painful rash if used. The men learned everything that their instructors could teach them that would help them cope with the environment. They learned about large black and white spiders that build webs at face level in the dense jungle. Their webs so strong they could catch small birds and hold them. The bite of one spider can temporarily paralyze a man, they were told. Much the same as their predecessors, Luke’s group survived the training and graduated. Surprised, Luke found that the time did pass as quickly as the Gunny had promised.

  Twenty-two days after their departure from Clark Air Base, the bus brought them back again, depositing them at another drab transit barracks. Luke and the others were now getting in the swing of military life–hurry up and wait. They rushed to catch the bus and then waited for hours once it dropped them off. Typical.

  After spending the night in the Transit Barracks, Waldo, Johan and Luke climbed on board an Air Force C-130 transport plane for the last leg of their journey. Da Nang Vietnam was their destination. The other men who went through the advanced training with them were left behind. Luke guessed they would catch later flights.

  Climbing a short set of metal steps, Luke entered a side door of the huge aircraft. The rear cargo hatch was already nearly closed. Shafts of light entered the small opening, providing illumination for the passengers. Inside the huge belly of the transport, a full load of cargo–large and small crates and containers–was strapped on pallets in the center of the huge plane. On each side, near the outer shell, web passenger seats of nylon belt material were strategically located. Luke tried to guess how many people were on the plane. With the cargo blocking his view, he wasn’t sure, maybe eighteen or twenty people with the cargo, he ventured to guess. Resigning himself to his strange surroundings, he strapped himself in his seat and waited.

  As he watched, an air crewman closed the huge rear cargo door the last few inches; the inside of the aircraft dimmed considerably. Luke sat in the shadowy darkness and listened to the strange sounds as the airplane came to life. It rumbled and jerked forward, starting to move slowly towards the runway. Engine noises grew louder as the large propellers cut through the morning air. The rumbling increased proportioned to the increase in sound until he felt the breaks release. Involuntarily he held his breath. The plane then began to roll. It moved faster and faster down the runway.

  Every bump and jar was felt as the plane picked up speed. It felt to Luke like the jarring of a roller coaster. It didn’t frighten him any longer; he began to breathe again, shallow and labored, but breathing. He liked riding on roller coasters. Everybody had stopped talking.

  All of the sudden, without warning, everyone was thrown hard to the side, toward the front of the aircraft. Luke heard the hair-raising screeching of brakes being mashed to the near breaking point. The engine noise abruptly disappeared. The cargo lunged forward a couple of inches, as the plane’s momentum was broken. Luke found himself sitting, holding his breath again, waiting for the crash, when all of the sudden the plane began a sharp right turn, tilting. He felt the left wheels lift off the runway. He found himself looking down at the cargo instead of across at it. The momentum held him in his seat. If it hadn’t, his tightened fists would have for he was holding on to the webbing for dear life. Some of the longest moments he had ever known passed before the plane settled back down on all wheels with a jolt. It then felt to Luke like the plane was back to taxiing normally again. Without windows close enough to see out of, Luke didn’t know how far down the runway they had been when the take-off was aborted, but the quick action of the pilot made him feel that they were real close to the end.

  The thought occurred to Luke that it all had happened so quickly, and without any warning, that he had had no chance to get scared or try to react in anyway. No one else did anything either, he realized. He felt a little dumb for just sitting casually the whole time. The plane taxied back to the loading area and everyone was asked to go to the waiting room again.

  It wasn’t until they got back to the small boarding area that most passengers reacted to the incident. Some turned white as could be; many of them started shaking and had to sit down. A Navy officer, Luke noticed, had wet his pants. Luke felt embarrassed for him. As he sat awaiting instructions, Luke noticed that everyone tried to act normal, as perspiration soaked their uniforms, mostly around the armpits, and sweat beaded on their brows.

  Luke went to the rest room and relieved himself. Returning to the lobby, he realized that his legs were a little wobbly so he sat down. He tried to look in control. His face flushed as he thought that everyone would make fun of him if they knew that a Force Recon Marine–namely Luke–almost peed his pants during the ordeal. Within a few minutes he felt normal again.

  Two hou
rs later everyone boarded another C-130–maybe the same one Luke thought–and this time successfully took off, easily reaching cruising altitude. Listening to the loud humming noise of the plane’s engines while it maintained its course and speed, Luke wondered if this “almost” tragedy was a premonition of things to come or what? Finally he dozed off, still listening to the alien drumming noise of the huge plane’s un-baffled engines.

  The yelling of a crewman woke Luke some time later. He was yelling to be heard above the plane’s booming noise. He bellowed, “The landing in Da Nang is going to be tricky today.” He paused then continued, “During the last month, three C-130s have been badly hit during landing attempts. One of the planes is still there, sitting at the end of the runway as a pile of scrape metal!

  “The moment the plane stops,” he said emphatically, looking into each person’s eyes for accent to his words, “I want you out of my plane.” The word my was exaggerated as he said it, as though he personally owned the aircraft. Then he continued, “Immediately! Got that?” Everyone nodded toward the burly loadmaster.

  Twenty minutes later Luke heard the change in the engine noise. The plane then started its maneuvering for landing. Even before they touched down, the aircrew began lowering the large rear door. It was obvious to Luke that they planned on unloading the cargo very fast too. The moment the wheels touched earth, everyone stood promptly with their duffel bags near the rear door, itching to exit. As the plane stopped, without a word spoken, Luke and the other passengers quickly scampered down the lowered ramp away from the giant target.

  Nearby were some tin-roofed huts. Everyone, including Luke, headed to them. It then occurred to Luke that he only saw eight people get off the plane. There were the three of us, he counted, and three other regular Marines and two Navy guys. In what seemed like only moments, as Luke watched, the plane moved down the runway, leaving most of the cargo sitting all by itself on the edge of the field. The plane didn’t pause. It turned at the far end of the runway and took off. Solemnly, Luke watched his last connection with the outside world as it disappeared across the far treetops.