by Gump
"But, Forrest," she says, "that's too expensive. You don't have that kind of money on a private's salary in your army. I know this."
"Well," I says, "I guess it don't matter. See, I don't get to spend much time with little Forrest, an the way I got it figgered, if I can give him some nice presents, he won't forget me."
"Ach, Forrest," Gretchen says, "this is not the way. I'll bet if you just wrote him nice long letters two or three times a week, he'd appreciate it more—more than a big old ooompapa horn, anyway."
"Maybe so," I answered. "But, see, letter writin ain't my specialty. I mean, I kinda know what I want to say, but I just can't seem to get it out on paper. I guess you could say I'm better 'in person,' you know what I mean?"
"Ja, Forrest, I think so, but ach this ooompapa horn is eight hundred of your dollars."
"It don't matter," I says. "I been savin up."
So I gone an bought the ooompa horn. In a way, I got a bargin with it, account of the shopkeeper din't charge me for the note I sent with it. Wadn't much of a note anyhow. Just about the same thing as before, cept I tole little Forrest I kinda missed him, an would be home soon. Turned out, that last was just more bullshit from me.
Anyhow, by the end of the season the Sour Krauts is 10 an 3, an we is up for the All Army Championships, down in Berlin. Sergeant Kranz is beside hissef, sayin that we is finally gonna get off the tank-cleanin detail if we can just win this one more game. Me, I am not too sure.
Finally, the big day come. Night before, I have got off for a while to go into the village an see Gretchen. She is waitin tables at the beer hall when I arrive, an after servin a big tray of beer, she takes a break an holds my hand.
"I am so glad you came tonight," she says. "I have been missing you, Forrest."
"Yeah, me, too," I says.
"I am thinking," she says, "that we might go on a picnic tomorrow. I have got the day off."
"Well, I'd like to, but I gotta play football."
"Ach!"
"But I was wonderin, could you come to the game? It is in Berlin."
"Berlin? But it is a long way."
"I know," I says, "but they got a bus, you know, to carry down some of the wives an stuff. I think I can get you on it."
"Ach!" Gretchen says. "This American football, I do not understand. But if you want me to go, Forrest, then I will go."
An so that's what we did.
It was in a big ole field next to the Berlin Wall where we played the All Army Championship game. Our opponents was the Wiesbaden Wizards from the intelligence section of the Third Armored Division, an let me tell you, they was smart.
We was bigger an faster, but them intelligence fellers was craftier. First, they unloaded a Statue of Liberty play on us. Ain't nobody on our side ever seen a Statue of Liberty play, an they scored a touchdown.
Next, they roll out a Tackle Eligible play, an pretty soon the score is fourteen to zip, their way. Everbody, includin Sergeant Kranz, is lookin glum.
In the second half, the Wiesbaden Wizards done thowed a combination stunt-blitz on defense an get us backed up to our own two yard line on fourth down. What is worse, our punter got his knee wrenched, an so is out of the game. In the huddle, somebody say, "Who is gonna kick the ball?"
"Don't look at me," I says, but everbody be lookin at me anyway.
"But I ain't never kicked the ball before," I says.
"Don't matter, Gump," somebody say. "We is gettin the hell beat out of us, an if they is gonna be a scapegoat, it might as well be you. You is on everbody's shit list already, anyhow."
An so that's what happened. I done backed up into our end zone, an all of a sudden the center, he centers me the ball. But somehow, the Wiesbaden Wizards done submarined under all our whole defensive line an appear in my backfield, almost like ghosts. I was fixin to kick, but I decided it was better to try to get some more room, so I begun to run around. I run back an forth in the end zone I don't know how many times an probably gained a hundrit yards cept, of course, it was goin the wrong way. Finally, I found a little spare room before the Wiesbaden Wizards caught up with me, an gave the ball the biggest kick I could. I stood there an watched the ball sail into the air. So did everbody else. It sailed so high, it went right out of sight. They said later they had never seen a kick like that.
Unfortunately, though, it sailed off the playin field right over the Berlin Wall an disappeared to the other side. Now we got a problem. Everbody be lookin at me in disgust an pointin they fingers an hollerin an cussin at me.
"All right, Gump," somebody say, "now you gotta go get our ball back."
"What? You mean climb over the wall?" I ast.
"How else you gonna get it back, you dummy?"
So that's what I did.
Couple of fellers give me a boost, an over the wall I went. I landed on the other side an looked up where they was a bunch of East German soldiers up in towers, all mannin machine guns. I runned right past them, an ain't none of them done a thing, I guess account of they ain't never seen nobody tryin to get in to they country—they was there to shoot the people tryin to get out.
Suddenly, I become aware of a huge ruckus, sound like from about a hundrit thousan people, which was comin from where I figgered the ball had landed. Turns out, I had caused some serious trouble.
What was goin on on this side of the Berlin Wall from where our football game was, was the World Cup Finals of the game of soccer. In fact, it was the last two minutes of the game between East Germany an Russia, an they was people from all over the world done come to see it.
These people, the Europeans especially, take their soccer very seriously.
When I got into the soccer stadium, I could not immediately figger out what was goin on, but it did not look good. What had happened, though, was this: East Germany was about to score a goal an take the lead from the Russians, when I kicked my football. The German player had dribbled his soccer ball downfield an was right at the Russian goalpost when my football bounced in front of him. Since he did not expect this, he became sort of confused an kicked my football right into the Russian goal, instead of his soccer ball. At first, all the Germans went crazy, account of they had scored a goal an won the game.
But then word come from the referee that it was not the right ball that was kicked in the goal an the score was no good, an then the whistle blowed an the Russians done tied the game. They was a lot of bewilderment by the Germans, followed by disorder, an when I come on the field an ast for my ball back, it seemed like the whole place erupted into pandemonium. They spilled out of the stands onto the field, shoutin stuff at me like, "Du schwanzgesicht scheissbolle Susse!" an a bunch of other stuff like that, which was apparently not very nice.
Now, I don't know what you'd do if you saw a hundrit thousan pissed-off German soccer fans runnin at you, but I turned around an hauled ass. I run right past the tower guards again, an this time they took a few potshots at me, I expect just to keep me honest. Finally, I begun to scramble over the wall just as the mob got to me. With all them thousans of people there, I reckon the tower guards didn't know exactly what to do, so they didn't do nothin—just stood there lookin puzzled. I was almost over the wall when somebody grapped the football pants I was wearin an begun to haul me down, but account of I was almost over, they only pulled off my pants.
I dropped on the other side, but a bunch of angry Germans done climbed over after me, an begun chasin me aroun our football field. Then more Germans begun climin over the wall, an a bunch of the others, I reckon in a effort to get at me, begun tearin chunks out of the wall. Pretty soon, it was apparent they was gonna tear down the whole Berlin Wall, just in order to catch me.
All our people was just standin there, kinda astonished-lookin, when I run past the post commander, wearin nothin but a jockstrap.
"Gump, you idiot!" he shouts. "They warned me about you! What is the meaning of this? You have caused some kind of international incident!"
In this, he was correct, but I didn't ha
ve no time to think about that now! Sergeant Kranz, he was poundin hissef on the knee with his fist an was all gray in the face an hollerin somethin about us bein put on "permanent tank-tread duty," when I caught sight of Gretchen, up in the stands.
She waved for me to come up there, an then she took me by the hand an dragged me into the street.
"I don't know what you have done, Forrest, but I will tell you this—they are tearing down the Berlin Wall, and for the first time in thirty years our country will not be divided. Perhaps I can even see again my own family, ja?"
Well, Gretchen an me, we hid in a alley for a while, an then she took me to a house of some of her friends, which was kinda embarrassin, considerin my dress. But they was all excited, account of the television was showin the East Germans tearin down the big ole Berlin Wall an dancin in the streets an everthin. They seemed to have forgot about me costin em the World Cup soccer match, an everbody was happy an kissin an huggin each other.
Anyhow, Gretchen an me, we spent the night with each other for the first time, an for some reason, I didn't feel guilty afterwards. I kinda half expected Jenny to show up again, an when I was walkin down the hall to the bathroom, I sort of felt like she was watchin me, but she never did show hersef.
Chapter Eleven
Wellsir, Gretchen an me caught a train back to Oogamooga or whatever it is that we lived, an when I got to the post, a surprise was in store for me. The post commander done took me off tank tread cleanin duty an put me on permanent latrine duty, right out of No Time for Sergeants.
He is furious because, as he say, what I have done is probably put him out of a job.
"Gump, you moron," shouts the post commander, "do you realize what has happened because of your screw-ups? The Germans have torn down their wall and now everbody's talkin about the end of communism!
"Just look at what The New York Times has to say about this!" he hollers, and hands me the paper.
DIMWIT SECURES END OF COLD WAR, says the headline.
What was apparently an accidental football punting mistake has led to what some experts believe will be the end of the nearly fifty-year-long breach between the East and West.
Sources told the Times that a U.S. Army private named Forrest Gump allegedly miskicked a football during an interservice playoff game in Germany, yesterday, which sailed across the Berlin Wall and landed in midfield on East German territory during the final seconds of the World Cup soccer match between East Germany and the Soviet Union.
The sources said that Mr. Gump then scaled the wall to retrieve the errant football, which had by that time created a disturbance in the soccer match. Irate soccer fans, estimated at 85,000 to 100,000 strong, then proceeded to chase Mr. Gump, with the apparent intention of doing him bodily harm.
Mr. Gump, who has been described as mentally retarded, fled back to the wall and began to climb over into West German territory. Sources said the soccer fans, in their efforts to apprehend Mr. Gump, pursued him across the wall and in the process began to dismantle the barrier which has stood as a symbol of Communist oppression for several decades.
Subsequently, joyous Berliners of all political persuasions joined hands in tearing down the wall and ultimately held what sources described as "the world's largest free-floating street party and beer bash."
In the confusion, Mr. Gump apparently escaped unharmed.
The final score of the East Berlin-Soviet Union soccer match was a 3 to 3 tie. The score of the American football game at the time of its disruption was not immediately available.
"Gump, you numbnuts," the post commander says, "we got no more communism, we got no more reason to be here! Even the goddamn Russians are talkin about givin up communism! Who in hell are we gonna fight if we ain't got the communists to fight? You have rendered this whole army superfluous! Now they will send our asses home to some godforsaken post in Palookaville and we will lose the best duty we could of dreamed of, which is right here in a quaint village in the German Alps! Gump, you have destroyed a soldier's dream—you must be out of your mind!"
He goes on like that for a while, poundin on his desk an thowin shit around the headquarters, but I get the drift of what his argument is, an it ain't doin much good to argue with it. Anyway, I gone on down to the latrine an assumed my new duties, which is to constantly scrub ever tile with a toothbrush an some bathroom cleanser. Sergeant Kranz, for his association with me, is given the task of wipin up behind me with Spic and Span, an he is none too happy about that, neither.
"We never had it so good, cleanin them tank treads" is the way he puts it.
Once a week, on Sundays, I get a pass to go into town, but the post commander have ordered two MPs to escort me everwhere I go, an to not let me out of their sight. This, of course, makes it somewhat hard for me to have a decent relationship with Gretchen, but we done the best we could. It was now generally too cold to go on picnics up in the mountains, as the Alps become chilly in the winter. Most of the time, we gone into the beer hall an set at a table an just held hands while the MPs was glarin at us from nearby.
Gretchen is really a nice person, an does not wish to spend the rest of her life as a beer maid, but she don't know what else to do. She is very beautiful, but say she thinks life's done pretty much passed her by.
"I am too old to be a model," she says, "und too young to give up on everything else. Maybe I'll go to university. I want to make something of myself."
"Yeah," I says, "that would be good. I went to the university once."
"Ja, Forrest? Und what did you study?"
"Football," I says.
"Ach!"
Good things, as my mama Gump used to say, are not meant to last forever, an this was no exception.
It wadn't before too long when the post commander called us all to the parade ground, an made an announcement.
"Men, there is the good news and the bad news."
At this, they was some low mumblin from the troops.
"The bad news," he says, "is for those of you cowards who are just drawin your pay and do not wish to perform your duties as soldiers."
They was some more mumblin.
"The good news is, for those of you who wish to start killin an dyin—which, if you din't know, is your bidness—you are gonna be afforded ever opportunity—thanks to some sombitch called Saddamn Hussein, who is the A-rab in charge of Iraq, an who has now started a war with our own commander-in-chief, the United States of America President George Herbert Walker Bush."
At this, some of the mumblin turned to cheerin.
"And," the commander says, "we are all gonna go over to Iraq an whip his heathen ass!"
So that's what we did.
The night before we left I got a pass to go see Gretchen for a last time. She has just saved up enough money to enter the university, an in fact is takin her first classes. I waited outside the schoolroom for her to come out.
"Oh, Forrest," she says, "it is so wonderful! I am studying English!"
We helt hands an walked for a while, an then I tole her what was goin on. She didn't scream or carry on or nothin, she just hugged my arm tighter an said she figgered this kind of thing would happen one day.
"All my life," Gretchen says, "I have learned not to depend on good things happening, but I still always hope they will. One day you will come back, ja?"
"Ja," I tole her, but I didn't know if it was the truth or not. After all, things don't seem to work out too good in my life, neither.
"When you come back," Gretchen says, "I will be speaking English as well as you."
"Ja," I says.
Anyhow, next mornin we left Germany.
First, we loaded up all our stuff, which was tanks an self-propelled guns an things, an flowed off to Saudi Arabia. When we arrived there, our division was eighteen thousan strong. Added to the rest of our army, we is about a million against twice as many A-rabs, which our leader, General Norman Scheisskopf, says should make for a fair fight.
Saddamn an his A-rab army are occupyin
the little country of Kuwait, which was known mostly for havin a bunch of awl wells. Matter of fact, they was enough awl in Kuwait to run the entire United States of America for ten years—which I spose was why we is here. We is fixin to thow them out, so's we can keep the awl.
The one thing that stood out in my mind about Saudi Arabia was sand an dust. They was mountains of sand an dust everwhere we went. Got in your eyes an ears an nose an clothes, an soon as you'd wash it out, more dust an sand would come along. Somebody says the army have trucked in the dust an sand just so's we would not get to feelin too comfortable before we had to fight Saddamn Hussein.
Since there is no latrine here except a hole in the ground, Sergeant Kranz an me have been returned to our duty cleanin tank treads, although this time it is not mud, but sand an dust we have to get out. Everday me an the sergeant be whiskin out the treads, which of course are just as dirty in five minutes than they ever were.
Anyway, one day we all get some time off an go into town.
The men are unhappy account of in Saudi Arabia they is virtually no whisky or women. In fact, whisky an women is against the law—well, whisky is anyway, an women might as well be, account of they run aroun inside big ole cloaks so's you can't see nothin but they eyes. The A-rab men wear them cloaks, too, an most of em have on them little shoes with toes that curl up at the ends. Somebody says that is because when they is out in the desert an gotta take a shit, they can grap ahold of the ends of the shoes when they bend over an it keeps them on balance. Whatever.
Anyhow, I am figgerin that long as I am here in the bazaar, I might as well send another present to little Forrest so's he don't think I have dropped off the edge of the earth. I gone into one of the shops an am lookin around at all the shit when the shopkeeper come up an ast what I want. I tole him a present for my son, an his eyes lighted up. He disappeared behind a ole curtin to the back of the store an reappear with a dusty wood box, which he laid out on the counter. When he open it up, I see inside a big shiny knife.
