THE SOLDIER: A Vietnam War Era Novel

by Schwartz, Richard Alan

  Chapter 23

  1978

  At dinner on Saturday, the first night at the log home in Bigfork, Montana, everyone sat around two long tables. The children were chattering away at one end near the window wall.

  “Welcome everyone,” Brian told the assembled. “So glad you’ve come out.”

  “We’ve hired a naturalist,” Rachel announced, “to take the children on an all-day Tuesday tour of the forests and lakes around here. We’re renting two vans. Chana and Arnie will accompany that group. Anyone else interested, is welcome to take part in the tour. Just let us know. On Wednesday, we’re organizing a trip to Glacier National Park.”

  Donna said, “We may be in far north Montana but the towns around here have great shopping and excellent eateries. I’ve made a list which I’ll distribute.”

  “I’ve found fly fishing guides,” Paul Slidell announced, “for those so inclined. Let me know if you’re interested and we’ll organize when and where. If you’re a beginner and want to learn to cast a fly, I’ll be lakeside tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” Brian announced, “Donna’s son Mitchel, plus Paul, and I are going to teach canoeing skills to the grade schoolers and anyone else who wishes to learn.”

  Seth yelled, “Yes,” then high-fived with Vera, Corey, and Janine.

  “Chana, Mary, Nora, and I,” Donna said, “have volunteered to keep the tiny ones busy with age appropriate activities.”

  “I found a square dance caller for Saturday night,” Scott said.

  A cheer went up.

  “Nora, Betsy, Mary, Donna and I have planned themed meals,” Rachel said. “We have a plan for the week, including; Copper River Salmon night, Louisiana Creole night…”

  Paul and Nora’s son Kevin yelled, “Yes!” and threw a fist in the air.

  The group laughed then Rachel continued, “New York style Italian evening, plus an Australian evening and a traditional Jewish Sabbath meal on Friday. Scott bought a smoker so Texas BBQ will occupy Saturday night’s meal which will take place before our square dance. We’ll be clearing out this room for the dance.”

  Brian whispered to Seth, “Anyone who goes home hungry after this week, it’s their own fault.”

  Seth giggled, nodded then repeated Brian’s remark to Janine who also giggled.

  “For breakfast and lunches, just let us know how many people will be here,” Rachel said.

  “For those interested,” Brian said. “I have copies of my research thesis in my office. Anyone interested, please read and I’d like your impressions.”

  Nora asked, “How is the research coming?”

  “Distribution and getting people’s attention was a nightmare. My solution was adding a Ph.D. to my M.D. All my work has been peer reviewed and published in medical journals. I received my Ph.D. a month ago.”

  The grownups congratulated him.

  “Also, working on my current research inspired ideas for other areas which need investigation but are more cross disciplinary. One involves the structures of various toxic bacterium like anthrax. I have another doctor who will assist us. Martin Evans just finished his Emergency Room residency and is working full time at my hospital,” Brian said. “He’s volunteered to assist me managing the research department by proposing projects to improve our knowledge of toxic bacterium and viruses. We also found a physicist to work with us.” He nodded toward Scott Hendricks. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll have our first planning meeting.”

  Paul Slidell asked. “My expertise is finance. Any way I can help?”

  “Not sure,” Brian said with a questioning expression. “We’ve been thinking about setting up a lab but we’re not sure of the best way to pay for it. Please join us in my office tomorrow morning at nine.”

  “Has anyone found any other vets from our platoon?” Paul asked.

  “Lt. Senna,” Martin said. “He lives in Omaha. Said he couldn’t make it this year but asked to be included if we get together again. The Lt. said he knows SSgt. Touhy is living in Tucson, Arizona. I couldn’t locate him but will keep trying after I get home.”

  “I’ll be visiting Tucson next month on business,” Paul said. “Let me try and find him.”

  “I found Mark Acorn,” Brian said. “If anyone remembers him, he awoke in the middle of the night then starting shooting for no reason.”

  “Good guy,” Scott said. “From California, if I remember.”

  Brian continued, “He’s in the VA hospital in San Diego, living in a Psych ward. He experienced what I was told was a nervous breakdown and never recovered.”

  “So sad,” Donna said.

  “Also,” Brian said. He seemed to hesitate for a moment then said, “I found David Trout. Lives in Seattle now. Hoped he and his family would join us. Gave him a call. He cursed at me, accused me of committing a war crime and said he still experienced nightmares about the killing in the market place and never wanted to hear from me again.”

  “That’s rough on both of you,” Paul said, He then turned to Martin and asked, “What was it like when you came home?”

  “I was so busy in med school,” Martin said, “I didn’t have a moment to think about the war. When I finally had a break, some war events came to mind and troubled me, but I was so proud of the work I did as a medic and my week at the medivac center, I believe those positive memories overwhelmed the negative thoughts from the war. In fact, looking back, my brief time in the medivac unit is remembered in great detail…like it was more than seven days.”

  Brian asked. “It had that big an impact on your emotions?”

  “I’m certain it did,” Martin said. “But please consider, after the war, my thousands of hours studying didn’t allow me television or newspaper time for a few years so the negative news had little impact on me.”

  Paul shook his head. “The worst for me was when I’d see enemy troops close enough to see their eyes. Easier to shoot the enemy at a longer range.”

  Martin said, “If one believes, as I do, eyes are a window to the soul, it is easier to kill someone at a distance as you don’t have to look into their soul as you take their life.”

  “True,” Scott said while nodding his head. “So true.”

  “Before we begin eating,” Brian said as he stood and raised his tumbler of Scotch, “I’d like everyone to take a moment, and raise our glasses to a great soldier, friend, father, and husband, James Ware.”

  Donna mouth a thank you to Brian.

  “I can’t wait to get out and fly fish,” Scott said.

  “Scheduled for Tuesday,” Brian said. “I’ve been looking forward the entire spring to getting out here to fish.”

  * * *

  On a cool and clear Tuesday morning, Brian gazed to the east from the bow of a three-man drift boat that floated down the Flathead River. The rising sun, was just peaking over the mountain tops. From his viewpoint, the sun was filtered through an Aspen whose leaves were turning golden. The deep green sides of the valley, resplendent with Aspen and Pine trees, were now flecked with gold as the first of the Aspen’s leaves transformed into autumnal hues. Gentle bird song filled their ears and cool, pine scented, mountain air filled their nostrils.

  Four drift boats contained a fisherman at each end and a guide in the center seat. The guide advised them on their technique and where to cast. The guide also used oars to position the craft as it drifted. The boats were separated by roughly fifty yards. Brian and Scott, Martin and Paul, Rachel and Mary, plus Donna and Krista, cast dry flies onto the shimmering cold river, whose headwaters came from the glacier melt of Glacier National Park and the Bob Marshal Wilderness.

  After a cast along the shore, Scott slowly brought in his line then asked Brian, “Arnie seems quiet. Stays apart from the group.”

  “He’s not the same guy we knew. Arnie exploded at me earlier this spring after viewing the carnage resulting from a car accident.”

  “Hard to imagine Arnie exploding for any reason,” Scott said.

 
“Wasn’t pretty,” Brian said. “Classic case of PTSD with a delayed trigger. Can happen months or even years later. Happy and jolly then symptoms ranging from manic- depression, anger, rage, and nightmares. The VA has Arnie visiting a therapist twice a week.”

  “He’s gained a tremendous amount of weight,” Scott said.

  “It is the damn medications he’s on. I’m working with his therapist to find another combination.”

  “How is Chana?”

  “She’s seeing a therapist every couple weeks for counseling. Gives her a chance to vent and understand why Arnie is suffering.”

  “Chana seems so quiet and reserved.” Scott cast again, his line making an arc behind his head then lay across the top of the water in front of him. “I’m surprised she stayed.”

  “She’s with him for now, but I fear for their future.”

  Scott shook his head. “Not fair to her. It’s sad the war would place such a heavy burden on such a gentle lady. Must take huge energy to accommodate his needs…in addition to their child.”

  “How are things now that you’ve published your research, Brian?”

  “I’ve lectured at a few universities. You were right. My research is being circulated. Now I need to find a way to achieve changes based on the research.”

  * * *

  Wednesday afternoon, most of the men and children plus Donna and Chana were out hiking in Glacier National Park while Krista, Nora, Betsy, Mary, Brian, and Rachel prepared the evening meal.

  “Michael couldn’t come out?” Krista asked Mary.

  “Big project to present at work. This is the first time we’ve been apart since I moved from Oz,” Mary said. “We didn’t want the children to miss this event. An excellent chance to meet the people and their children who, if you consider how our lives intertwined, the war brought together.”

  “Martin is still super occupied in the Emergency Room, even with his residency completed,” Krista said as she sliced and chopped carrots, “but since our wedding, he somehow manages to find time for the children and me plus volunteers at the VA two mornings a month. The nurses out there call him Mr. Patience because he sits next to the vets and smiles at the same stories week after week like he’s just hearing them for the first time…which is exactly what those unfortunates need. Michele accompanies him occasionally. I predict a future in medicine for her.” Krista scooped up the carrots, put them in a bowl then began slicing celery. She shook her head and smiled. “Martin is five years younger but treats me like a treasure. He dedicated a wall at our home for photographs and memorabilia of our military service, which means mostly pictures and awards of mine. Because of my nursing experience, I can appreciate and understand his trials and tribulations in the ER. He’s told me our discussions help him keep his head on straight. And the girls have started calling me Mom. Michelle might be more excited than I am over this pregnancy.” She turned to Rachel. “I created an art center at home like you have and she regularly spends time drawing pictures to put in the nursery.”

  “And Janine?” Rachel asked.

  “She has a thing about Seth,” Krista said.

  “I’ve noticed. It’s rather cute.”

  “More than cute,” Krista said. “During yesterday’s hike in the Flathead Forest, Janine was getting upset and loud over, what should have been, a minor incident. It seems to happen more and more often lately. Martin and I tried get her to calm down. She didn’t until Seth, in a loud voice which sounded just like Major Levin when he needed someone’s undivided attention, yelled, ‘Cut the crap, Janine.’”

  Jaw dropped and standing straight, Brian stopped fileting the salmon he was preparing then said in a voice tinged with disappointment, “I’m sorry he talked to her like that.”

  Mary said, while staring at Brian over the tops of her glasses, “Likely someone at home talks to Seth like that when he gets carried away.”

  Rachel nodded and gave Brian a disparaging look. She turned to Krista. “I am so sorry he used language like that.”

  Janine’s new mom shook her head. “Don’t be. Seth’s words had an instant effect. Janine even apologized…to him, of course.” She scooped chopped celery into a large soup pot then added the chopped carrots. “In my wildest dreams as a parent, I never would have said…cut the crap.”

  The others laughed with her.

  Krista began dicing turnips and said, “Martin told me, the next time she acts out, we’ll get Seth on the phone.” While the others laughed, she became pensive for a bit, then said, “Martin and I and the girls, we struggle at times like most families, but overall we manage.” She opened a package of fresh cranberries and dumped them in a sauce pan of boiling water along with orange zest, honey, a quarter teaspoon of clove, and a dash of cinnamon. “At times, our respective war experiences can depress one or both of us. Martin gets depressed thinking of things he could have done for the wounded if he had a little more knowledge. I look back and wonder if my training and leadership skills couldn’t have been better. At times, I feel sad, depressed really, thinking of the wounded who died while we worked on them…but the blessing in our relationship is, thank you Lord, we’re a family and solve problems as a family.”

  “That’s what works at our home,” Mary said.

  “Same in Louisiana,” Nora added. “Although, I do worry at times because I’m the third mother in Betsy’s life…”

  Betsy interrupted, “For certain, Nora loves us as if she was our birth mother.”

  Nora mouthed a thank you.

  “I’m happy for you,” Rachel gazed at the ladies, smiled and said, “Happy for y’all.”

  “Careful,” Krista said, peering over her glasses at Rachel. “You’re beginning to talk like a Texan.”

  Rachel giggled and said, “I find spending time with those of you who married veterans reassuring. I don’t feel alone when memories of traumatic experiences occur because I know I can call one of you.”

  “I agree,” Krista said, nodding her head. “I’ll make up a list of everyone’s phone numbers and distribute them.”

  Brian said, “The kids are returning from their canoe lessons.”

  Cory, Mary’s oldest child Vera, plus Seth and Janine approached Rachel while she worked in the kitchen.

  “Mrs. Kaplan,” Janine said, “We, us four, think this place is missing wind chimes.”

  “I love their sound,” Vera said. “But we think brass tubes would be better for this place.”

  “More of a forest kind of sound,” Seth said. He turned to Corey who nodded agreement.

  “What does the sound of wind chimes create?” Rachel asked.

  “They remind us to be happy,” Janine replied.

  “Yea…happy,” Seth agreed.

  Rachel smiled and said, “Tomorrow, first thing, we’ll go shopping for a set but you have to make a hanger for them and help me decide where to hang them.” She smiled at the group then asked, “Where’s Karen?”

  Vera shrugged and said, “Always hanging around Mitchel. Doesn’t have time for us.”

  “Mr. Slidell is taking them out to learn some birding stuff,” Corey said.

  The young foursome headed outside, busy debating about and searching for, an appropriate location to hang the wind chimes.

  * * *

  Late Thursday evening, Krista entered Brian’s Montana office. “Dr. Levin, when you have a chance, I would like to talk to you about a war experience…”

  “Now would be a good time.” He motioned her to a chair facing his desk.

  “Can we keep this discussion between us?”

  “Of course.” He closed the office door.

  Krista twisted on the chair then cleared her throat. “The day you responded to the request for help, to aid the man with the unexploded shell adjacent to his chest, I volunteered to accompany you thinking it would be like any other surgical procedure. Afterward, I didn’t sleep for two days as the gravity of the danger I put myself in registered.” She again twisted on her chair then ran a hand throu
gh her hair. “Lately, I’ve had dreams where I hear an explosion then see my body torn like so many of the injured we treated.” She gazed around the office for a bit then said, “I imagine the situation we were in was more like combat for you. Similar to other battle engagements you experienced. Something you knew how to handle, in an emotional sense.”

  He nodded and said, “It was.”

  Krista twisted on her chair again, pushed her hands into her lap then added, “Therefore you understood working under the pressure of possible imminent death. The grenade could have exploded at any moment. Killed or maimed both of us.”

  “We were careful, it didn’t detonate until it was behind the sand bags, and we survived.”

  “What if something happens with the girls and we are in a similar position? Will I, without considering the danger, put myself, along with members of my family, in a life- threatening situation? What if the grenade explodes the next time?”

  “I know a great counselor.”

  Krista shook her head. “No. I need to understand why I didn’t consider the danger beforehand. I’d like to schedule a session with you weekly, starting next month, after we return to Texas so I can work through my actions and emotions.”

  “I’m not…”

  She interrupted. “Martin and I agree. You were there. You’ll understand better than anyone else. I’ve done enough counseling to know, working through my emotions with someone who’s been there, gone through similar or identical situations, is the best thing I can do for myself, if you’ll agree.”

  “Let’s try. If it helps, we’ll continue, otherwise…” Krista nodded.

  “Certainly. I’ll go elsewhere.”

  “I’m free Fridays. Early morning would be best.”

  Showing a sense of relief, Krista said, “I’ll adjust my schedule to accommodate that.”