Simply Shorts
Page 3
The rain came down in sheets, the river swelled so high I damn near drowned in my bamboo prison. Charlie had me locked in a cage, intermittently dragging me out to interrogate me for the hundredth time, or maybe the thousandth time, who the hell remembered or even cared by then.
My spirit was broken, but I had told so many lies to my captors, I didn't know what the truth was myself anymore. I always started, “My name is Staff Sergeant Mickey Mouse, serial number 12345678,” and about then they'd whack me in the head with some sort of club, rendering me unconscious, reviving me with a bucket of water and we'd begin again.
“Sign this paper confessing your treasonous activities and your treachery,” They'd say and then I would reply that my name was Mickey Mouse and repeat my serial number again. They'd beat the hell out of me some more and then drag me back to my river cage. Home sweet home.
This sort of activity along with some other fun things like hanging me from a tree by my arms with my feet tied for hours and burning my feet so I couldn't run away, transpired for months I guess, I lost track of time.
The war raged on even though I was not part of it, nor did I know what was happening, how could I. I was all alone with these NVA soldiers and they weren't exactly keeping me up on current affairs. I could see our airplanes flying overhead, but of course was powerless to try and signal them. I was all alone in the world, I had no one and nothing to live for anymore. I would have ended it all but I figured why hasten something that was inevitably coming anyway. I felt the life draining from my body, day by day. I knew the end was near.
I starting thinking fondly of my death, the relief it would bring from my daily torment, and what an irony it would be to just up and die on these pricks without them getting any information out of me. I would actually laugh like a madman thinking about my demise, it brought me great peace. My death and looking forward to it, became my reason for living, as strange and bizarre as that sounds.
All that changed one day, all of sudden I wasn't alone anymore. Three prisoners were brought in to occupy cages in the river next to me.
They were speaking English, Americans, and my life changed in that instant, no longer one of hopelessness, but one of hope and a chance maybe I might make it out of this hell alive someday. Turns out they were Marines just like me, captured when the Huey they were flying in on took heavy fire and went down about 5 clicks south of where I was captured. We became fast friends and comrades of course, plotting ways to escape, which was our duty under the Code of Conduct.
Their names were unimportant, in fact it was better we didn't know each others true identity or nothing about one another so we wouldn't accidentally slip and tell the enemy any vital information. They were simply called Donald Duck, Pluto, and Road Runner, this further pissed off the dinks that held us captive, but we thought it was funny as hell. Of course it did encourage them to beat our asses more, but we still persisted in using our cartoon names nonetheless. We made a pack to never tell them anything, never let them break us, for we knew if we broke we were dead, it was a simple as that.
So one by one, almost on a daily basis, they would drag us out of the river into the head man's hooch and we would play the game. It wasn't a fun game, but it was a game and they knew the rules all too well, they held all the cards, which included the death card.
I was close to breaking, having been there the longest, the rest of the group urged me not to give in to their demands, but I was so weak I couldn't last much longer. I just wanted to die and enjoy the peace that my death would bring. It was over for me, I thought, no more games, they had won at last.
One day the gooks came for Donald Duck, they drug him out of cage as always, but this particular day was different. Out of nowhere one of the guards pulled a .38 pistol out of holster and held it to the Duck's head, announcing that morning they were going to play a game, “Russian Roulette.” The guard held the gun up high, spun the chamber, and placed the gun against Donald's head, who was badly shaken and screaming for the guard not to pull the trigger. Of course he was not dissuaded and pulled the trigger, nothing, empty chamber. He spun the chamber again, placing the gun the the head of the prisoner one more time, he pulled the trigger, this time luck was not with Donald Duck and the .38 caliber round blew a big gaping hole in his head, blood squirted out as he fell in the river turning it crimson red.
The remaining prisoners including myself screamed as we watched Donald fall into the river and float away. We were immediately terrified, afraid who would be chosen next to play their murderous game, but about that time the captain himself showed up and shot the two guards without a second thought, they floated bloody in the river. He just turned and went back to his tent and disappeared inside leaving us at a loss as to what had just happened.
It was the height of the rainy season then, the river swelled daily adding the threat of drowning to all our other miseries. We were all dying of starvation from the slim ration of one rice ball a day and the occasional meat entree of unknown origin, the origin we really didn't want to know, but it helped keep us alive. There was no chance of escape as I had originally hoped when the other prisoners had first came, and our morale was very low, all hope was loss.
Our only hope was to be rescued, it could happen but it was very unlikely, but it was the only thing we had, the only prayer that we had to hold on, as slim a chance as it was.
It was a clear night, the rain had temporarily stopped, the moon was full, the stars shone beautifully in the Vietnam sky. Pluto, the road Runner and me, Mickey Mouse were in our cages, enjoying the respite from rain and from the torment of the guards, who usually left us alone at night. We sometimes told stories about home during these times, at other times we weren't allowed to talk to each other.
Road runner was telling an interesting story about getting arrested with an under aged girl when he was nineteen, turns out she was fifteen. “She swore she was eighteen, hell I didn't know, I just wanted to get laid,” he said laughing hysterically.
I said I had a similar experience when I was sixteen, but I got caught with a man's daughter who was only fourteen and I had to run like hell to keep him from killing me. “But I ain't going to lie to you, I knew she was only fourteen.” And so it went on for hours that night till way past midnight, we were just settling down to try and get a little rest when it happened.
All of a sudden the sky turned a bright red, we could hear the sound of what seemed to be a helicopter, heading straight down right above us. The sound got louder and louder as the crimson light intensified, we saw it and it was indeed a bird but unlike anything we had ever seen before. It almost seemed like something from outer space, but I knew that couldn't be, I thought I must be dreaming.
The guards in the camp had spotted the descending bird as well and were standing outside of their quarters watching in awe as the big bird came closer and closer. They thought they were under attack, this must be a rescue attempt so they started firing at the approaching craft, but the rounds bounced off of it like bullets bouncing off the chest of Superman.
The craft started returning the guards fire, blasting them to smithereens one by one, we could hear their screams as they disintegrated and then they were all gone. There was quiet except the sounds of the helicopter's blades beating the air, we sat in silence wondering what was going to happen next, we didn't have long to wait. A magical invisible hand reached gently down from the bird and released each of our cages. That same hand picked us up and transported us miles from our river captivity to an open field and placed us on the ground. We sat dumbfounded not knowing what had just happened or what was going to happen next.
Then we heard it and we saw it, one of our own Huey's was hovering above us, it landed not too far from where we sat still awestruck. Two marines jumped out and drug us into the helicopter and we were gone.
To this day I don't know exactly what happened but I still tell the story just as I remember it. People say I'm crazy, but I know what happened and how we were rescued that day fr
om that river in Vietnam in 1969, once upon a time.
Vampire Hippie