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.

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Farewell, Uncle Ho

by Dennis Milholland

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

Chapter 67 (Mon., Apr. 3, Tues., Apr. 4)

Gerry spoke in a quiet, soothing voice when he asked the Second Lieutenant to hand over his sidearm. Once Gerry had control of the gun, I went to the desk and phoned the emergency number on the mimeographed page, taped to the desktop.

The dispatcher answered, asking me for my name, rank, unit and to state the nature and location of the emergency. Everything went fine, until I told him it was a snake bite.

"Bullshit. There haven't been snakes on this post for over fifty years. Do you realize that it's a felony to report a bogus emergency?" The dispatcher seemed to be on the other side of angry.

"This is a real emergency, I assure you. And I would imagine it to be felonious not to respond." He agreed. With almost knowing for sure that the next question was bound to be the name of the victim, I felt giddy. "It's First Sergeant Davey Crockett."

I had to hold the receiver away from my ear, as the dispatcher yelled obscenities over the line. At that, our CO grabbed the phone. "This is Lieutenant Banks, Commanding Officer of Bravo Company, 3rd Brigade, 1st Training Battalion, and my First Sergeant has been attacked by one huge mother-fucking, mean ass rattlesnake, and the poor bastard is a squirmin' on the floor a turnin' all sorts of colors. And I want your ass over here, now!"

He slammed down the receiver and turned to me. "You have to be much more assertive, Soldier."

"You're an O2 and I'm an E2. I think that that may rule out my being randomly assertive, Sir."

***

The attending practitioner was a Captain, so I assumed that he was a doctor rather than a nurse, but you never knew. "Did anyone see the snake."

"Yeah, it was a large Crotalus horridus." Gerry informed the doctor.

"You a zoologist?" The doctor wanted to know in a hurry.

"No, BA from Columbia with a minor in Herpetology." Hearing it put like that, I swelled with pride for my man.

"Glad you were around." He then ordered his assistant to hand him antivenom A.

"Don't ya have to apply a tourniquet?" The Lieutenant decided to put his authority and lack of knowledge on display. The good doctor, Gerry, and I burst out laughing.

"Yeah, around his fucking neck." I surprised myself with the amount of venom that oozed from those five words. Luckily, everyone else, except for Gerry, thought I was joking.

***

Of course, the Office of the Provost Marshal had to investigate. After all, it could have been an attack by a subversive Red Chinese or Soviet inspired snake. Needless to say, they'd gone through our files by the time the investigation came round. The investigating officer, possibly of Arkansan or Oklahoman origin, was very up front in his dislike of anything foreign and/or anything from New York.

"Now, y'all's Commandin' Off'cer, Lieutenant Banks, says it was a Diamond Back that bit First Sergeant Crockett."

"That's not true," Gerry was affirmative. "Crotalus adamanteus, which is referred to as the Eastern Diamond Back, lives in the Carolinas, and the Gulf States, not in Kentucky. And the other Diamond Back Rattlesnakes live in Arizona, New Mexico, and California, also nowhere near Kentucky."

"Are you callin' Lieutenant Banks a liar?" The police officer was getting aggressive.

But Gerry was not. "No, he just doesn't know what he's talking about."

"And you do?" the lieutenant sneered. Gerry nodded. "Let the record show that Private Helmstedter nodded in the affirmative." He turned back to Gerry. "And why's that, Soldier?"

Gerry was not aggressive, but he was getting cynical. He sighed. "As I said, I have a minor in Herpetology." The military police lieutenant looked puzzled. Gerry sighed, again. "So that even you can understand it, I took some courses in creepy crawlies in college."

Then the military police lieutenant told his stenographer that he was now interrogating me. "And how does anyone of Asian origin become a French citizen?"

"That is none of your business, Sir." Now, that made the guy sit up and take notice.

He shot off his chair and got into my face, telling his stenographer between gritted teeth that this was off the record. "Listen to me, and listen good. No uppity, slant eyed, half-breed Gook is gonna tell me that somethin' ain't none of my business. I killed the likes of you whenever I felt like it in Nam. Now, answer my question."

"Okay, it's none of your fucking business, Sir." I growled through clenched teeth.

He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I placed my hand calmly over his wrist and applied my thumbnail to the pressure point on the back of his hand. He released me and grinned, as if to tell me: 'Just wait'.

"Do you have connections to Red China?" He took up another line of questioning.

"Again, Sir, that is none of your business." I smiled, telling him that he would die, if he tried anything. "May I remind you, Sir, that you are investigating a rattlesnake bite, and that you are not in charge of the House Committee on Un-American Activities."

"Okay, Soldier, what kind of rattlesnake was it?" He almost laughed.

"I have no idea, Sir." His smile disappeared; mine reappeared. "All I know for sure, Sir, is that we found it under the barracks."

"And do you have any idea where it is, now?" The lieutenant wanted to know.

"Probably somewhere in this room, Sir." I gestured around the Orderly Room, while he quickly motioned to his stenographer, and they left.

***

Tuesday morning, Gerry took charge of formation and marched us to the mess hall. No one else seemed to want the job, when Lieutenant Banks called us to attention. And our CO apparently didn't know how to hand over a formation.

When we got into chow line, the guy in front of us turned around. I noticed that the rank insignia said that he was a sergeant, E5. "Where'd y'all get the snake?"

"Found it under the barracks." Gerry replied cordially.

"If it wasn't the coolest thing I've seen in a long time," He chuckled, as he flipped the lighted end of his cigarette off onto the sidewalk and pocketed the butt. "I'd tell you to your face that you're lying." Then he laughed. "But I don't wanna be unfriendly, so I'll tell y'all how I know. I'm from Louisville and we haven't seen a timber rattler that size 'round these parts, ever since the Civil War."

"And how did you see the snake?" Gerry was still skeptical of the guy.

"I was in Bubba Banks office when y'all came in." He then reacted to our questioning faces. "The CO and I are in the same reserve unit in Louisville, and we were called up to hold down the fort, when all the real soldiers were sent off to war."

"Yeah, that would explain why you're in Clerk-Typist School and our CO doesn't know shit." We all had a laugh. "And is that obnoxious First Sergeant also a reservist?"

"Don't know him." Our new acquaintance shook his head. "But he was one nasty sonabitch."

"Wrong tense, there, Bud. He wasn't a nasty son of a bitch; he is one nasty son of a bitch. The motherfucker's sadly still alive." I must have looked and sounded too aggressive, since Gerry cut in.

"At least, he still was, when they wheeled his sorry ass out to the ambulance, yesterday."

***

Gerry got us back to the formation patch in front of the Orderly Room, double time. He tried to turn us over to our CO, who was standing in front of the white single-storey, clapboard building. But since Lieutenant Banks had no idea what to do, and my kind-hearted man didn't want to embarrass anyone, Gerry turned his salute to the new First Sergeant. Now, this guy was a real First Sergeant, whom we could respect. He had a Republic of Vietnam, Bronze Star, and a Purple Heart ribbon among many others. And, oddly enough, he seemed familiar under the brim of his Smokey the Bear hat.

"At ease, Men." He got into the proper position in front of his troops, and even his voice sounded familiar. "I'm First Sergeant Barns. I'm replacing your former First Sergeant, who is in the hospital recovering from a snake bite, and who should make a full recovery in about a month's time." He went on to make all the necessary announcements and told Gerry and me to report to the Orderly Room.

We knocked on the door, after having given him time to take off his hat and jacket, and having given us time to have a smoke. He told us to enter, and then bellowed: "God damn, you guys are just like good ol' Sam Jackson described you. Strack as Hell."

"Sorry, First Sergeant," I spoke up. "I don't remember a Sam Jackson." And before I could get the end of the sentence out, I did remember. "You mean Top Jackson from Reception Company at Dix?"

"The one and only." Top stated with a familiar boom and a broad smile, minus the scar. "He's my cousin. And when I visited him at Dix for a couple of weeks, after I got back from my tour in Nam, he kept talking about you two, particularly you, Ben."

"Yeah, and he was pretty good to me, too." I chuckled, wondering if this guy was going to have the same effect on me, as his cousin did. "How's he doing out in the Pacific Northwest?"

"Apparently, he loves it." First Sergeant told us, as he picked up two manila files. "It would drive me crazy, though. I'm a city boy, myself. Give me New York or Los Angeles, any day.

"Now, I had a look at your files, while you were at breakfast." His grin broadened. "And why am I not surprised that you guys have already been awarded 71 Bravo." My face must have looked confused. "That's your MOS, uh, Clerk Typist."

I nodded that I knew. "But why have they already issued it to us? We still have to pass the AIT PT test."

"Which you will continue to train for, until the bitter end." He went over to the filing cabinet to put our files away. When he opened the lower drawer, Ezekiel made an appearance, which sort of immediately redefined, 'until the bitter end'.

"Don't move." Gerry told First Sergeant in a low, calm voice. "No abrupt movements and no loud sounds, and you'll be fine." My man slowly removed his field jacket, picking up one of the olive green wastepaper baskets as he inched toward the filing cabinet. He patiently placed his field jacket over the snake. Suddenly, he rattled and struck, sinking his fangs into the fabric of the field jacket, releasing venom. And while he was tangled in the field jacket, Gerry dropped him into the waste basket and quickly turned it over, holding it down with one foot. "Ben, call emergency services."

Luckily, I got a different dispatcher, who took my call seriously. Within only a few minutes they were on the scene, removed Ezekiel and gave Gerry back his damaged field jacket. We all took a deep breath, as the last of the removal team closed the door to the Orderly Room.

"God damn!" First Sergeant put the files into the cabinet and closed the drawer. "Damn, you guys are good." He shook his head. "Anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about is that we don't have a company clerk and this place is a nightmare."

Gerry laughed. "Yeah, they're reservists."

Top shook his head, again. "That would explain it."