THE SOLDIER: A Vietnam War Era Novel

by Schwartz, Richard Alan

  “Good. Anything else?”

  She hesitated while squirming in her chair and rubbing her chin then said, “One more item, please.”

  Brian nodded. “Of course.”

  “Instead of flying back to Dallas, Michelle and I are flying to Iowa to spend two weeks with my family.”

  “Nice,” Brian said with a smile and a nod.

  “Michelle understands my need for alone time to gather my thoughts and work out stress. I’ll get her a library card and she’ll have a delightful week of reading and my mother is going to teach her knitting. Michelle is looking forward to our trip to continue learning various farming skills and we’ll be there on time to help with canning again this year.”

  “Martin and Janine?”

  “Martin back to work but Janine…I realize this is a big ask, but could she stay at your home? I know you’ll be working but Rachel and Seth have the ability to understand and cope with her energy. Two weeks in an environment like that could be good for her.”

  “Martin?”

  “Agrees. More often than I’m comfortable with, Janine is all guns forward and firing, which can make me crazy, but doesn’t faze Rachel, or your son. In fact, Martin referred to him as Janine’s barometer. Seth knows when a storm is coming; recognizes when she’s loaded with excess energy. Your little guy matches her energy and they engage in a physical activity like running, chasing a Frisbee, or, I’ve just learned, wrestling.”

  Brian’s eyebrows went up. “Wrestling?” he said in a voice loaded with incredulity.

  She nodded. “Like two little boys. It’s supposed to be a secret between them but they didn’t know I was watching one time…so strange…although similar in size, he’s much stronger but uses his strength to allow her to burn off energy until she’s had enough.”

  “And then?”

  “They play like any five-year-old children. After the bout I witnessed, they moved to the art center for more than an hour. In silence, Janine created drawings of birds they’d seen in the Flathead Forest, while Seth drew a detailed picture of the Motorhome with a jeep attached, driving up a mountain; this place and Swan Lake in the distance. Following which the duo hauled a four-step ladder out of the garage and taped their art to the wall of the playroom, then walked along the lake looking for minnows and water striders.”

  “I’ll talk to Rachel, but I’m sure she’ll agree.”

  With a sly grin, Krista said, “I shouldn’t be surprised your wife can handle Janine’s energy…I mean…” She giggled. “She handles you.”

  Brian burst out laughing.

  Krista thought for a bit then added. “I’m concerned that Janine learn control of her emotions at this age. When she’s old enough, we’ll explain how her mother abandoned her. That could be traumatic. We don’t know how she’ll react.”

  Brian’s expression changed to one of sadness. “The damn war. Janine wasn’t any part of it but may suffer years after it ended.” He sighed. “The war’s impact was so cruel. So wide reaching.”

  * * *

  Early the following morning, Brian, Rachel and Chana, sat on the deck, looking out on Swan Lake. Puffy clouds dotted the blue sky. A cool gust of wind blew across them, the leaves of the nearby Aspens rattled.

  Chana wrapped a second blanket around her little one, who was sound asleep.

  Brian asked. “What has it been like, living with Arnie since the onset of his PTSD symptoms?”

  “The manic-depression scared and confused me, as does his sudden dislike of activities he enjoyed previously. We haven’t been to a baseball game since the accident which seemed to have triggered his PTSD. He’s been seeing the psychiatrist Brian recommended. For me, I have biweekly sessions with a therapist, which has helped. Understanding what caused his outbreaks and discussions of how to engage with him when he seems to be another person are useful but it don’t make things easier.”

  Rachel said, “You’re aware his behavior may change at any time, even with the meds?”

  “My therapist mentioned. I need to watch for that and get him to his psychiatrist when it happens.”

  Brian asked, “What about his work?”

  “They gave him a month off to straighten his head out. He’s returned without a problem but one of the teachers is a close friend of mine and she let me know his behavior is not the same. Not bad but not the same.”

  Rachel asked, “This is none of my business but…did you ever consider leaving?”

  Chana looked around to make sure no one else could hear. “Please, keep this to yourselves…I’m trying to be patient, but the mood swings will be the death of me. If it doesn’t improve…I mean, this is not the person I married. Certainly, not the person I want to help me raising my child.”

  “Where is he?” Brian asked. “Out for a drive.”

  The phone rang. While listening, Brian cursed then stared at Chana. He hung up the phone, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

  “Who was it?” Rachel asked.

  “The medical center in town.” He looked at Chana. “Arnie tried to kill himself. He’s in intensive care now but the ER doc said they expect him to live.”

  Chana turned pale.

  Rachel asked, “How did they know to call here?”

  “ER doc knows me. I guess Arnie mentioned my name.”

  Chapter 24

  “It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.”

  General George S. Patton

  September 1980

  Sitting on the pool deck back in Texas, they sipped coffee early one morning in late September, it was still tee shirts and shorts weather. Brian said to Rachel, “I’m going to the garden center today to pick up bulbs. I believe a row in front of the porch would look pretty.”

  “Plants? So low tech. It seems so…not you…to have an interest in them.”

  “Relaxes me to work with them. Andrea taught me that when we visited her father’s sheep station. Simple so doesn’t take much thinking. She believed plants brought peace to tortured souls. After months of concentrating on the suffering of my fellow soldiers, flora brings peace and balance to my world…like she did and now you do.”

  “Thank you, but…I bring peace and balance?”

  “Rachel, you and our children mean the world to me.”

  He placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her.

  “Pretty lady, will you marry me?”

  “Rachel tilted her head slightly and asked, “Why now?”

  “Because both our heads are in a place where I don’t envision past trauma rearing its ugly head and pushing us apart.”

  “I agree,” Rachel said in a quiet voice, grasping his hand. “Besides, three sets of wind chimes are telling me, we belong together.”

  She laughed, “They talk to you now?”

  “Rachel…”

  She teased with a lilting tone in her voice, “We have a disagreement…you end up drumming or splitting wood for an hour.”

  Brian caressed her cheek. “How many times do I return…tell you how wise you are?”

  “About as often as I let my partner know how pleased I am to be part of his life.” She smiled and kissed his cheek, her expression radiating satisfaction. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

  * * *

  Eight months later, in June of 1980, Brian, Rachel, and Donna were sitting around the kitchen table at the Levin’s Texas ranch planning that year’s July Fourth gathering at the Montana log home.

  While they talked, Brian helped Abbey prepare slides for the five-year-old’s microscope. As she finished each slide, the young one examined it under the optic then made a drawing of what she’d observed.

  Abbey pointed to the microscope then said to Donna, “This used to be Dad’s but he gave it to me so I can see things that are itty-bitty small.”

  “May I have one of the drawings?” Donna asked.

  “Sure you can,” Abbey said.

  Rachel said, “Everyone is com
ing out to Montana again, except Arnie. Mary told me Michael will join us this year.”

  “How’s Arnie?” Donna asked.

  “Recovering but has a ways to go,” Brian said. “So sad. He did so much to keep everyone’s spirits up while we were in combat. As soon as you met him you thought you were his best friend.”

  “Poor, Chana,” Donna said “The Vietnam War’s impact is so far reaching. I wonder what will happen to the children of the Veterans who have difficulty coming to terms with their involvement in the war.” Donna shook her head then added, “On a brighter note, I talked to Krista earlier this week. I swear, she and Martin were made for each other. Michelle fits with them but problems continue with Janine.”

  “We have her out for the weekend once a month,” Rachel said. “She and I are close. I feel like she’s family.”

  Brian said to Abbey, “Just one drop of dye on that one.” Abbey used an eye dropper, centered it over the slide, added one drop of the dye then placed a cover slip over it. “Excellent, Abbey,” Brian said.

  Donna addressed her. “Do you and Janine play together?”

  Abbey turned to her and said, “Sometimes she helps me with drawings but doesn’t like my microscope.” Abbey shrugged. “Dad or Mom have to help me with some slides but mostly I can make my own because I’m five.”

  “Excellent,” Donna said with a grin.

  “Janine pretty much ignores her,” Rachel said. “Which doesn’t bother Abbey who has her own sense of direction. But Janine and Seth engage like brother and sister.”

  “Square dance again this year? Everyone loved that,” Donna said.

  Rachel laughed, patted her belly. “As I’ll be in my ninth month in early July, I won’t be joining in but definitely put that on the schedule.”

  Her friend laughed, became wistful and said, “I pray the children will remember these gatherings and remain close as they enter adulthood.” Donna made some notes on the activity planning chart then said, “Did I tell you, since last year’s Montana get together, Corey and Mary’s daughter Vera, have been writing? Scott bought a computer from Radio Shack, and is teaching Corey how to use it. Apparently, Vera’s dad bought one as well.”

  “I bought one,” Brian said, “based on Scott’s recommendation. We spent an entire day together setting it up and running programs.”

  “A relative of Brian, Michael Levin, is about Cory’s age and is communicating and exchanging instructions with him…” Donna shrugged, “…and they’ve never met, never even talked on the phone.”

  Abbey showed a drawing to Donna. “That’s a tree leaf.

  You can have this drawing. See all the cells?”

  “Good work, Abbey,” she said and gave her a brief hug. “Please put your name on that one and I’ll put it up in our family room.”

  “Good drawing, Abbey,” Rachel said, gave her daughter’s shoulder a squeeze and then turned to Donna. “Seth is communicating with Michael over our computer so my son is learning about the little machine as well. Brian had our computer hooked up to a computer at UT. That computer can talk to the computer at Scott’s work and a computer at Brian’s hospital.”

  “Scott is super pleased that Cory is consumed with doing things with that little box. As our computer is connected to his office, he works from home one day a week. My husband spends all day on that machine, his attention riveted to the screen.”

  Wearing an expression of shock, Rachel said, “They pay him while he works from home?”

  Donna nodded.

  Rachel giggled. “Where can I get one of those jobs?” The trio laughed.

  “Not sure if I mentioned,” Rachel said, “I received another call from my sister Mirna. She and her daughter are visiting the last week in August.”

  “What joy!” Donna said.

  “I was shocked when she called back in May. We stayed on the phone for two hours. She’s had a difficult life since she left home. Her daughter sounds like a bitter person, lacking any sense of direction.”

  “Could be a rough week,” Donna said.

  “That’s what Brian thinks. I’m hoping for the best. I haven’t seen her in so long…”

  The phone rang. Brian answered then set it to speaker so he could continue to help Abbey while he talked on the phone.

  The caller said, “I’m Colonel Bruce Clark calling from the Pentagon. I’m trying to reach Major Brian Levin.”

  With a look of surprise, Brian answered. “This is Major Levin. What can I do for you?”

  “You served with the 101st Airborne Division in 1970 and authored research we’ve been reviewing. We’re assembling a discussion group. We were hoping to schedule a time when you would be available to meet a group of us at Fort Sam near Houston to review and discuss your work. We were thinking the third week of August.”

  Rachel’s expression was one of shock and joy.

  Donna’s eyes went wide. She smiled and punched the air. The colonel continued, “There are some procedures we’re thinking of implementing but wish to have your input.”

  “I’ll…I’ll…” Brian steeled himself and cleared his throat. “I’ll arrange to clear my calendar and schedule time to meet with your group. Let me have your number, Colonel.”

  He wrote it down then thanked the colonel for calling.

  Rachel turned to Donna. The friends embraced. “Finally,” Brian said then embraced Rachel.

  “Thank the Lord,” Donna said. “About time.”

  * * *

  The five were bathed in the golden glow of a North Texas sunrise. Three sets of wind chimes painted rainbows across the porch.

  Rachel sat in a glider, her face radiant, Andrea in her arms, Abbey on her father’s lap, Seth sitting between his parents, reading to his sisters.

  Brian thanked the Lord for putting Rachel in his life. A wind chime chorus sounded. “I know,” he thought, as if answering their sonorous voice. “When I was in need, first Andrea, and then Rachel, lifted me….and became the wind chimes of my life.” He considered his tremendous good fortune then remembered his fellow vets. “Please Lord, if you’ve got time, I know lots of troubled vets who could use wind chimes in their lives…”

  ~~~~~~

  If you enjoyed my novel, please leave a review on Amazon. Reviews help Indie Authors like myself to become known to more readers, ranked with book sites, and earn an income. Thank you!

  Author’s Notes

  I studied Lt. Col. Dave Grossman’s book, On Killing, The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and Society. Anyone wishing to understand the psychological impact of war on soldiers and society, must read Grossman’s book. This author also details the Vietnam War experience, and why it was unique. He explains in precise detail how much of the violence in our society is due to our electronic devices and media. According to his analysis, we are training large segments of our children to become violent and accepting of violence to a degree unknown to previous generations.

  For military field and hospital procedures, I studied Emergency War Surgery produced by the Department of the Army, third edition. The medical procedures depicted in this novel are for fictional purposes only.

  Dedication

  This novel is dedicated to the following:

  Mickey Krueger, of blessed memory, who sent me a paperback every month I was soldiering in Vietnam. The books provided an opportunity to escape the horror of war and was sorely needed by myself and the many platoon mates who read the books after I did.

  My mom, Sonya Schwartz, of blessed memory, who sent thoughtful letters weekly and Scientific American each month, and was the first person to realize I could become a writer.

  My father, Gerald Schwartz, of blessed memory. A crew chief in World War II, he prepared me for my service with his memories of that war, and helped me transition back to civilian life after the war.

  My uncle, Mike Schwartz, of blessed memory. An infantry soldier during World War II. When I returned home, our discussions of the mental toll of combat, helped me under
stand the trauma of all who engage in combat against our fellow man.

  Carolynn, my beloved wife and partner. Without her encouragement and patience, my novels wouldn’t have been created. Many people ask what the key to happiness is. For me, the key is named Carolynn.

  Mike, Craig, and Ben. Professional soldiers all. If I had to go into combat again, I’d want these three at my side. Thanks for staying in touch since our tour in 1970.

  Lastly the novel is dedicated to all our nation’s combat soldiers and their families. Especially those who still suffer due to PTSD and/or physical injuries.

  “I would say two contrary laws seem to be wrestling with each other these days. The one, a law of blood and death, ever imagining new means of destruction and forcing nations to be constantly ready for the battlefield-the other a law of peace, work, and health, ever evolving new means of delivering man from the scourges that beset him. Which of these two laws will prevail, God only knows.”

  Louis Pasteur (1888)

  About the Author

  Richard is a 101st Airborne Division, Vietnam veteran. Having a lifelong passion for history, a creative mind, and being a mesmerizing storyteller, historical fiction was a natural career choice after a life in software engineering. Being a lifelong learner, Richard loves pursuing research for his historical fiction. He and his wife, Carolynn, scour libraries, museums, and historical sites while always on the lookout for interesting historical perspectives, personal stories, and quirky characters.