I Shot JFK

by Jake Aaron

  “Those words struck a chord. The leader ordered the ropes cut and apologized to me. Just when I thought I was home free, he had a second thought. “Why don’t you have a tiger tattoo like other Russians?”

  I had an answer: “I am a Jew. We do not believe in desecrating our bodies.”

  He looked at my circumcised penis. “You tell the truth,” he replied.

  “I then asked for an AK-47, equipment, and provisions. He took those from his most junior member and gave them to me. He shared the sacrifice of clothing me by taking clothes from several other soldiers. He then sent his squad away, gave me some of his food, and apologized for the rough handling.

  “The next day one of the Viet Cong squad on patrol smelled the smoke of an American cigarette and got back to the squad leader and me. I went on a recon with him. I verified what he found: a South Vietnamese patrol with an American advisor. I prevailed on the squad leader not to attack. First, I said, you’re outgunned and outnumbered. Second, with those bad odds, the Russians would not forgive my getting captured. He knew I, as a Russian advisor, had virtual veto authority. He called off the attack.

  “The day after that I slipped away from the Cong on a nature call. I had hoped to join the force I saw on recon the previous day. They had moved on.”

  “I was even more careful than ever after that. I figured there’d be a massive hunt for me, but there wasn’t. The best theory I have is that the VC squad leader didn’t want to fess up to losing me — and by then he was probably wondering whether I was indeed Russian. So he probably had to tell his troops the Russian had other orders, to save face.

  “Keeping track of time, or not — I was going to explain that. I started out with a short stick with a notch for each day. Short stick for a short stint. Then a long stick when I realized I was in a marathon. I transferred the notches over and buried the short stick. Fortunately, I lost the long stick crossing a flooded steam, or the Vietnamese squad would have caught me with it. No one would believe a Russian was out that long with so many Viet Cong to surrender to.”

  “How did you stay motivated, Gunnar?”

  “I had two different affirmations. I can do this forever was one. The other was I will be picked up tomorrow. Oh yes, there was a third: I wanted to get back to collect that $500 you owe me.”

  “Nice try, pal. We barely knew each other at school after Beast Barracks — different regiments. Of course, everyone knew you as First Captain Olson. Back on the two affirmations, they remind me of hearing our Beast leaders tell us we’re on our last hill of a forced march, when we knew it was most likely not true. It helped us hang in there.”

  “My turn, Jim, what the hell are you doing in Laos?”

  “It’s a pretty good deal. I’m still an Army lieutenant, but I’m working for the CIA. Civilian clothes, extra pay, and a generous operating budget. I like it. They want me to stay on after my normal duty tour. Offered me more pay. I said no way, that I am engaged to be married. They said they’d fly my wife in to be with me. I knew that wouldn’t fly with her parents, not in a million years.

  “Back to you, you sorry son-of-a-bitch, I’m glad you made it out. Before I get all sentimental here and start singing ‘Benny Haven’s, Oh!’, are you going to be all right here by yourself? I need to report back in.”

  “How about some more lao-lao, Jim?”

  “I’ll get you some more tea. Take it slow, buddy. I going out to check back in with Mother at HQ. I should have more on your extraction. I’m expecting you to go out on a CIA single-engine turboprop to Saigon. Then, something like an Air Force C-130 will fly you on a top-secret air-evac mission to a hospital in the Philippines, Okinawa, or Japan for treatment. You’ll be the sole passenger. That’s how I would execute your extraction, anyway. We’ll see what Mother says.”

  Air Evacuation

  Classmate Jim drives Gunnar from the safe house to a short rural airfield in a Land Rover. He briefs Gunnar, “You can tell anything relevant about your escape to your doctors. Since this is top-secret, for everyone else, stick to the legend, the cover story, I gave you.” He helps Gunnar out of the vehicle into a one-engined turboprop, a Pilatus PC-6 Porter. The pilot works for Air America. His uniform, or non-uniform, is a plain white short-sleeved shirt, dress trousers, and low quarters.

  Gunnar thanks Jim, “Beat Navy!”

  *****

  At Tan Son Nhut AB, near Saigon, an Air Force C-130 is waiting for Gunnar with engines running. He is assisted onto a litter, then carried up the open ramp in the plane’s tail. A female Air Force nurse in a flight suit calls him “Harry,” as he was briefed. She takes his vital signs, cocoons him in a blanket, and crisply hooks him up to intravenous fluid. She tells him he is being rehydrated with a saline solution. She explains he is getting a piggyback of antibiotics. He goes in and out of consciousness. When he is awake, she offers him very small portions of rice and oatmeal. The nurse frequently taps his shoulder gently to ask how he is doing.

  In minutes, the C-130 begins a smooth acceleration to a fast taxi speed. For the sake of the passenger, the aircraft does a graceful U-turn and ultra-smooth rolling takeoff. Gunnar nods off. Imperceptibly leveling off, the smooth flight lets Gunnar continue to doze.

  Waking to a nurse checking on his IVs, Gunnar quizzes, “Does everyone get the red-carpet treatment like this?”

  “It’s standard practice,” she says. “Would you like champagne?” She touches his shoulder again and winks.

  “I can’t tell you where I’ve been, but the ouzo was terrible,” Gunnar jokes.

  “I can imagine. You were told we are going to Japan. On headset, I just learned that the subtle turn to the right was a change of destination. There’s a typhoon brewing off the coast of Japan that’s causing us to head to Clark AB in the Philippines. It’s a good hospital. They’ll take very good care of you. I hear they have Dom Perignon.”

  “In spite of the weather, this is sure a smooth flight. If it weren’t for the revving of engines on takeoff, I’m not sure I’d know we ever took off,” Gunnar observes.

  “You’re extremely fortunate. The pilot is Major ‘Slick’ Dossier. He gets his nickname for his smooth flying. Just wait until we land; you won’t even feel the aircraft touchdown. He’s known for ‘wheel rollers.’ He’s famous for betting a copilot he could land without toppling a quarter standing on its edge. He won the bet.”

  “Speaking of smooth, I didn’t even feel you sticking me for the IVs. Thanks.”

  The nurse acknowledges the compliment, “We aim to please!”

  *****

  Slick’s reputation is well deserved. The C-130 undetectably touches down. There is no use of reverse thrust, that would have slammed everyone forward. Instead, the aircraft rolls out on the long runway with a delicate application of brakes to turn off mid-field to expedite getting to the parking spot where an ambulance awaits.

  The pilot shuts down the four engines and leaves the auxiliary power unit on to power aircraft systems, including air conditioning. Slick comes to the back of the aircraft near Gunnar’s litter. “Everything okay, pal? Did Ginger rough you up?” Everyone shouts to be heard over the APU’s high-pitched whine.

  Gunnar nods, “Nice flight. Great landing!”

  “I try,” the blustery pilot replies. “Bud, stay away from the Fire Empire in Angeles City.”

  Ginger shakes her head, “Don’t tell him that! He’ll go there. They always do.”

  “So I guess I’m covered either way,” the major answers with a grin. He gives Gunnar a business card:

  Anthony “Slick” Dossier

  World-Class Aviator

  Leader of Men

  Bon Vivant

  “You call, we haul.”

  The aircraft commander taps Gunnar’s blanketed ankle, “Pleasure doing business with you, pal.” He heads toward his enlisted loadmaster ten feet away.

  “Listen, Rob, nice job back here. I see you made sure everyone back here was well taken care of. That was the extra special care
we were told to give this patient. Hanging blankets and sheets around him to create a room effect — that was creative. Dampened the engine noise, too. I’ll be recommending you for Airman of the Year.”

  The jaunty pilot pauses, then adds, “And remember, this mission never happened. Completely secret.”

  Clark AB Hospital, Philippines

  Gunnar misses the ambulance ride to the hospital at Clark AB. He has fallen asleep again. He wakes up in his hospital bed to the sight of an attractive nurse in green scrubs. The walls of the hospital are institutional green. And the metal night stand next to him is a matching green.

  “Okay, Harry Winslow,” she starts. “Welcome to Clark. I’m Nurse Eileen Sanders. We’re going to get you a bath in place and draw some blood for tests. Then a doctor is going to give you a once-over. It looks as if there were a lot of mosquitoes at sea where they picked you up.”

  Gunnar doesn’t recount his whole legend to her: fisherman surviving weeks at sea after his boat went down with the rest of the crew. He deflects, “I’ve got so used to the bites, I’ve stopped scratching.”

  “Funny you should have so many mosquitoes out at sea,” the nurse observes with a questioning undertone.

  Gunnar senses the probing, “I don’t know. Being dehydrated, I didn’t have the greatest situational awareness. I could have been off the coast of somewhere. Who knows?”

  Eileen changes the subject, “Harry, you’re lucky to be here. In my quarters, the alarm didn’t go off due to a power outage. We have back-up power in the hospital. The electrical power everywhere in the Philippines seems to fail often. I’ll have to buy an old-fashioned wind-up clock.”

  Gunnar appreciates that she is trying to set him at ease with small talk. He admires that. Small talk was not something that occurred much in the scientific household he grew up in. Even Alex was not given to chatter. His engineering-major classmates in college certainly were not known for idle chit-chat either.

  He does not distrust Eileen; but there is something about her — something mysterious, something under the surface, something unspoken.

  “One, more thing, Harry,” Eileen adds, “I’m going to shave your beard. I’ve been asked to leave a mustache. Peggy will cut your hair this evening. She gives a mean haircut. She’s good!”

  *****

  “Looks as if they’ve cleaned you up well, Harry,” the white-coated doctor begins his summary, alone in the room with Gunnar. You’re still dehydrated and malnourished. I want you to continue with small meals throughout the day. Small bites are a good idea. Eat small portions to see how they sit on your stomach. You’ll find that when you pause after several small bites, you’re completely full. Don’t overload your system with too much food, too fast.

  “Your liver and kidney function tests are abnormal. That’s to be expected. Your body has been digesting itself. Long ago, your system consumed excess body fat. Then it went to work digesting muscle to keep you alive. Breakdown of that protein is hard on the liver and kidneys. Over time, the tests should return to normal.

  “When the numbers are normal, I’m going to prescribe the addition of beer and bananas. Beer and bananas are good for gaining weight back rapidly. I don’t want you on any of the local beers. They have traces of formaldehyde. If nothing else, that will give you headaches.

  “We’ll continue with antibiotics. I suspect you may also have tapeworms. You have significant sun damage from the sun. You have several skin rashes. You have fungus on your toenails. You also have mouth sores.

  “In short, you are in remarkable shape for what you’ve been through. By the way, your mosquito bites are healing nicely. You have scars from other bites that have healed. By the necrosis, I suspect you were bitten by some venomous spiders and snakes in the jungle.

  “The nurses will get you up periodically to walk around. You have the whole empty ward to do that. If you stay in bed, you’ll get weaker and very likely wind up with pneumonia.

  “How are you sleeping?” Before letting Gunnar answer, the doctor says, “I’ll prescribe something for that for the first two weeks. Take it if you feel like it. Any questions for me?

  “If not,” the doctor continues, “I don’t have a magic lamp for you to make wishes, but we owe you an awful lot. You’re used to austerity. This is a great time to ask for anything you want. I can’t tell you that you’ll get it. The staff is under orders to try …”

  *****

  After the doctor leaves, Eileen enters the hospital room. “So how is my favorite patient? What can we do for you?”

  “You know, Eileen, I like you. I like the food — what little I can handle. I like the night staff. I appreciate the best seller books you gave me. But, Eileen, this institutional green is getting old. You know — the scrubs, the walls, the nightstand. They’re all the same green …”

  “Harry, I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  “Eileen, I was pulling your chain. Forget it.”

  “No, you weren’t. I get tired of the green, too. Meanwhile, I need to draw some blood, Harry.”

  “Who would guess? This next draw will make you even with the mosquitoes,” Gunnar jabs. “If you weren’t so attractive, I’d accuse you of being a vampire.”

  Eileen ignores the comment with the dismissive smile of a professional who is going to do her duty, regardless of protestations.

  After the blood draw and a long nap, Gunnar wakes to pink walls. Pink construction paper is taped virtually everywhere but the ceiling. Even the nightstand is covered with the pink paper.

  Gunnar has a good laugh with Eileen over the prank. “Thank you, Eileen!”

  “Oh, I had a little help!” she corrects him. “Thank the rest of the staff, too!”

  It is time for a short walk around the hall. At first, he notices occasional single sheets of pink construction paper taped randomly on the walls outside his room.

  Eileen explains, “Sorry, we ran out of paper …”

  Gunnar smiles, “Not bad!” … “Could you do fuchsia tomorrow? And, Eileen, that really is a joke!”

  *****

  After breakfast the next morning, Gunnar slowly walks down the hall with an IV stanchion that hydrates him. Eileen walks with him. He enters an austere hospital room. “Irving” greets him. Irving offers coffee and doughnuts. Eileen puts one maple donut on a small plate and cuts it into tenths. She puts it to Gunnar’s right as he prepares to sit at the table in a green hospital gown. Eileen puts a white towel on Gunnar’s chair seat so he won’t feel the shock of cold plastic through the open-back hospital gown.

  Eileen leaves after a few words, “I’ll be back in an hour to pick Harry up. That’s long enough for my patient until he gets his strength up. Call me if Harry gets too tired.”

  Irving shakes Gunnar’s hand across the gray, standard-issue government table. “The mustache looks good. It does a credible job of changing your appearance. We don’t want anyone recognizing you for the time being.”

  “Irving, I really need to let my aunt and uncle know I’m alive. They raised me after both my parents died. I would put my twin sister first, but ….”

  “Harry, you’ve been through a lot. I will get back to your primary concern after I lay the stage for where we are. You have invaluable information on the enemy in South Vietnam — information that can save many American lives. That’s why, for the short-term, we need to keep your existence above top secret and compartmentalized. I promise you that we will honor your wishes by starting the ball rolling on notifying your aunt and uncle. Please write down the business and home addresses for them. While you are doing that, I notice you have your sister on file as next of kin for notification in event of death …”

  “Irving, I did a lot of thinking about that while I wandered through the jungle. That was a mistake on my part. My sister can be a little temperamental. I never should have had her as the primary contact for notification of my death. I rolled around in the sty of regret and remorse for many hours thinking how badly that probably went.
Same old story, none of us really believe anything can happen to us … . I should have given the matter more thought.”

  “Profound personal insight, Harry. So we will send our people to contact your aunt and uncle. They will personally explain the necessary secrecy surrounding your survival. Then, shall we let your aunt and uncle work out the logistics of telling your sister you’re alive?”

  Gunnar paused and answered, “That’s probably the best way to go. They know her temperament …”

  “All right, Harry. Excuse me a minute while I get the ball rolling on contacting your aunt and uncle. We will also arrange for them to fly here as soon as possible. We will cover everything. Go ahead and sip on some coffee. The donut looks good. I’ll be right back.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Irving was back. “Harry, I got the ball rolling. I have to tell you what an important thing we’re doing today. I want to get into more detail on your experiences over your months evading the enemy in Vietnam. You have the most significant HUMINT, human intelligence, to come out of this theater of operations to date. I apologize for our need to push you in terms of debriefing you before you have had a chance to recover, but please understand that what you know is potentially very time-sensitive. As I’ve said, you may be able to save many lives with what you know. Spare no details. Even what you and I consider unimportant may mean a lot to analysts who will be reviewing our tapes. I’ll start the tape recorder now. He punched the appropriate buttons on a 1964 Bell & Howell reel-to-reel machine.

  “Harry, tell me about your capture by the Viet Cong …”

  *****

  On time, exactly sixty minutes from when she left, Eileen knocks on the door. Irving asks whether the session can continue ten more minutes to finish the topic. Eileen says her patient’s health comes first.