This is a work of fiction. Names of characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously; any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Milholland – All rights reserved. Other than for private, not-for-profit use, no part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in any form or by any means, other than that intended by the author, without written permission from the copyright holder.

Careful! This is a work of fiction containing graphic descriptions of sex between males and critiques of religion and governments. And last but not least, Nifty would like your donations.

Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

questions and comments are welcome. www.milholland.eu / dennis@milholland.eu

Chapter 31 (Friday., Jan. 13)

Shortly after midnight on Friday the 13th of January 1967, Sean appeared in the doorway to the bay. Lights had been out for two hours, but still someone yelled: "At ease."

"Oh, would you fucking go to sleep, Dickhead?" He growled, and came over to my bunk. He shined a flashlight in my face. "That you, Ben?"

"Yeah, Sean." I felt my dick plump up. "How're you feeling?"

"Come on, grab your shit and we'll go upstairs and talk." He went for the door.

And out of the dark, came two or three voices in unison. "Welcome home, Drill Specialist."

I took my bedding, the uniform I'd just taken off plus boots, locked my locker and followed along upstairs. I was on the verge of tears. But then again, Friday the 13th had always been my lucky day.

Somebody, supposedly the CID had removed Lowe's belongings. The only other thing that was missing was the butt can, so I got another one from the empty upstairs bay. I took Sean's clean, still folded bedding and made his bunk. "What did they come up with at the hospital?" I wanted to know.

"Well, first of all, Top told me what you did. How can I thank you?" Sean was standing close to me but was reticent to touch me.

I stood upright from making the bunk. "How about giving me a kiss." He switched off the bulb and had me in his arms at once. "Did they find out what was wrong with you?"

"Yeah." He looked downcast. "Still gotta take my malaria prophylaxis for another three weeks. They give everybody returning from Vietnam quinine for post-exposure protection. And it caused my blood sugar to drop too low, and I hadn't drunk enough water, either, so I was dehydrated. The combination nearly wiped me out." He kissed me again very passionately. "Thank you, Ben."

"All in a day's work." I joked but was seriously glad to be able to hold him again for another three or four days, depending on when basic was supposed to start. "Got some really good news for you, though."

He started making my bunk, but I pulled the mattress off onto the floor and we just spread the sheets and blanket out. I put a scoop of coal onto the embers in hopes that we wouldn't have to restart it. He started taking off his fatigues. "So, what's the good news?"

I closed the stove. "I called Haruki from the hospital and he's coming down on Saturday and Sunday to see us. And he's cool with having you stay indefinitely."

He threw himself back onto his bunk. I didn't know that anybody could let out that much breath at one time. I was afraid that he might pass out again. "Thank you." he whispered. The sounds he was making told me that emotions were getting the better of him. I sat down next to him and cuddled.

"Have you got a cigarette for me?" His voice was unsteady; he sniffed. "The nurses seem to have taken mine."

"The nurses didn't, I took them. I was afraid that they had dope in them." I fished out my Pall Malls and lit one for each of us.

I had to laugh at the thought of Lowe's having had something else on him. Amphetamines, maybe. That would have accounted for his aggressiveness.

"What's funny?" He took the cigarette and gave me a peck.

I related in detail how I'd gotten rid of his replacement. Sean's reactions were swaying somewhere between comical relief and disbelief the entire time. And he almost flipped, when I told him how I'd admitted to being Queer to the guys from CID, and they didn't believe me because the machine told them that I was lying.

"Do you know what my Irish grandmother would have called you?" When I shook my head, he continued in a fake Hibernian accent. "A feckin' nasty piece o' work."

***

Since we had been talking for an hour or so, I'd had about two hours of sleep, but was wide awake at 0400. I released myself carefully from Sean's arms and got up. My uniform and boots were up here, but my other things were in the locker downstairs. As usual, I got dressed in the upper bay and carried my boots down.

Helmstedter was leaning against my erstwhile bunk "Ready?" he whispered.

"Let me get my field jacket, gloves and cap." I whispered back as I spun the dial of my combination padlock.

We went through the door at a trot and got into our rhythm. As far as I could tell in the dark, the skies would be crystal clear today. It was a little chillier than yesterday at this time, but it would be a gorgeous day, so appropriate for a Friday the 13th.

It was after our second round, when Helmstedter asked to go for a walk away from the barracks. "Can I ask a favor?" I'd never heard Helmstedter so meek.

"Depends on what it is." I thought it must be something big to get this outgoing kid to sound like a martyr campaigning for sainthood.

He stopped and grinned knowingly at me. "Would you teach me to manipulate a lie detector?"

Of course, the kid wasn't stupid, and he'd obviously put two and two together. He'd been there, when Lowe went down and suspected that I'd taken him out. Seldom do people have seizures from screaming. And since CID hadn't taken me off in cuffs, I would have to have done something along those lines.

I grinned back. "If you'll promise not to spread the word."

"Promise." I virtually saw the thrill run through him. He was ready.

So, I started talking about my pet spider that I brought with me to keep me company during the hard times of basic training and that he would also like my spider since it always had really cool stories to tell me and that he could actually see my pet spider sitting on the left epaulet of my field jacket and even though the spider was tiny he could see it with no problem at all and that he should concentrate on my spider sitting on the green button of my epaulet and he should listen to the spider telling him to relax but not to fall down just listen to the spider and me telling him how absolutely great he was feeling and when I snapped my fingers he would feel very relaxed and trusting. Snap.

I had him raise his right arm to shoulder level and keep it there. The arm would be up until I told him to put it down. I explained how to trigger this amazing state of consciousness without others noticing that he was so relaxed and focused. He would put his right thumb and first two fingers together and count to three and visualize the two words, 'can do', in front of his eyes. This would not require any practice and the minute he returned to a fully awake state, he would be able to use this tool and if he required immediate relief all he had to do was to snap his fingers. He would now put his right arm down and with that, he would return to his normal state of consciousness. Now!

He shook himself like a dog that had just come in from the rain. "Un-fucking-real!" He looked around, and even inspected the button on my epaulet to see whether the spider was there.

I explained how he could use this tool to kill pain, if he ever got wounded. He could use it to control organ functions, like breathing, heart rate, perspiration. He could also use it to relieve emotional stress and pain. And finally, I warned him about influencing his body functions too drastically and about forgetting to put himself back into his normal state.

I told him to now try the trigger sequences to alter his state of mind and tell himself that his left hand is numb and that he can't feel it. He did, and it worked. Then I told him to put the feeling back into his hand. He did and was amazed, but said nothing; he only shook his head.

We'd walked for some distance in silence before he asked me how I used it. "When I can only get two hours of sleep and feel as if I'd had eight." He nodded. "When some prick wants to start a fight and I don't react."

He blushed. "Look, I said I'm sorry."

I laughed and patted his shoulder. "I wasn't even talking about you, Gerry." I had, in fact, forgotten what he'd done just the other day. "I was referring to that prick of a SPC 4, yesterday."

Then he looked the saddest, I'd seen him. "Can I make the hurt my girlfriend caused go away?"

"Just snap your fingers." I whispered as we were approaching our barracks.

He did and stifled his laugh. "This shit's amazing. It's a wonder it ain't illegal." Having said that, he looked at me questioningly. All I did was to shrug.

***

I went up to the room to see if Sean was going to join us today. We hadn't talked about whether he was on bed rest or not. To my surprise, I found him up and about, trying to make his bunk. His response to my worried face was: "I can sleep for a month when I move to the Village next week."

"Do you want me officially rooming with you?" I was wondering if I should bring my stuff up from the bay.

He hugged me very tightly. "I need you to watch out for me." He laughed, telling me that he was joking, but wanted me back upstairs.

I was on my way back down to the bay, when I saw First Sergeant coming up to the door. He got to the door before I did, and when I was about to yell, 'At ease.' he shushed me and dragged me into the latrine.

"It's too fucking early to go yelling at the troops." He laughed. "Anyway, I have to talk to you about the start of basic. Here's the deal. I'm going to put your platoon in the care of 'Smoke' Walker."

"Is his name 'Smoke'?" I could only imagine what derogatory origin that must have.

"Hell, no!" He laughed. "Nobody names their kid 'Smoke'." He chuckled again, shaking his head. "That's his rank. He's a Sergeant First Class, and served, up until now, in an artillery unit. Anyway, just remember Gunsmoke on TV."

He looked at me seriously. "This is going to be tricky, and the only reason I'm going to allow this is because you and a lot of others in this platoon seriously have your shit together."

I was listening intently, when Helmstedter and Morton came into the latrine. "Good morning, First Sergeant." Helmstedter said, bellying up to the trough urinal, which was like pissing in a narrow bathtub.

"Monin', Helmstedter." First Sergeant did a double take. "That reminds me… Could you and your buddy stay and join us?"

"Sure, First Sergeant." Helmstedter was shaking his snake, and started zipping up. Morton took a little longer.

"As I was telling Loughery, here, I'm assigning your platoon to Sergeant First Class Walker. He trained as a Drill Sergeant years ago but has served most of his Army life in an artillery unit. He's a career soldier and is going to retire after twenty years of distinguished service in a couple of months."

So far so good. We were all nodding that we would like to serve with someone like him.

"On his last tour in Nam, he suffered extreme emotional tragedy. One of his two sons, due to an administrative error, was also stationed there in a forward combat unit of the same battalion. Anyway, to make a very long and complicated story short. The platoon he was in charge of, accidentally shelled the wrong target, killing one of his own boys."

"Okay, Top, where's the problem?" Helmstedter asked, looking at Morton and me.

"Well, to cut to the core." First Sergeant coughed. "I'm putting a platoon in charge of a Drill Sergeant." He looked at each of us. "You're not only going to have to be the best at everything during training, you're going to be responsible for a broken, old soldier. Can you do that?"

"Of course, we can." Morton was the first to speak up. Helmstedter and I nodded.