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Friendship Gay Historical Fiction

They asked him to provide an item for the time capsule. He looked at the crowd around. Some had baseballs signed by a big guy or another when they attended a game as a youngster. A lady carried the pompoms she used when a cheerleader at her high school. Another fellow was proud to display a single stamp worth, so he said, well over 50,000 dollars. Of course these days entire stamp collections, never mind single stamps were worth a big fat zero. Still, he had it, possibly had purchased it at the then market price...which was now,,,not much.

What he had in the protective case in his jacket pocket was a Purple Heart. Now his own, not earned by him, but by his long time mate James. During that disastrous VietNam war, possibly the first war lost by the US since World War Two. Ok, Korea was never declared a war. It was and still is a ''police action''. Since then the US keeps insisting on ''invading'' other soils, such as the craziness in Afghanistan. In sane. Mind boggling. He could not understand. Surely the Big Guys had a reason, their reasons sustained by the huge armament firms? Still. The British had been there during the Victorian Age and they'd had their ass kicked to smithereens. The Russians, jsut at the back door, also had their butts kicked, the mujahedins shooting their like birds on a clothe line has they made their out of there. So for the US to be there after close to twenty years, there had to be a huge reason completely beyond his understanding.

Vietnam. What a mess. the enemy everywhere and nowhere. In tunnels dug by hands and going on for miles. No air lift for these guys. They carried everything on their backs, built all they needed under there, including hospital care. In and out. You never see them. Booby traps galore, some made so injure, not kill, so the other soldier's mate would come along to rescue him, and they they would shoot the lot. But sometimes the ''good guys'' also had tricks. As when they knew of that vietnamese sniper in that spot way over there, but the guy was such a bad shot, they let him shoot and shoot always missing. Better that idiot then a really proficient shooter.

It was during one of these firefights that his friend James got hit in the leg. Luckily he was air-lifted quickly, brought to the field hospital and treated immediately. All he has now his a big scar and a slight difficulty walking. He drives him regularly to the vet centre for a bit of physiotherapy, age not helping and arthritis setting in.

They had good years together, though good times had to wait until R&Rs in Australia or Japan. They had just ''clicked'' together one night at the mess all. A look and pretty much all was said. A risky BJ on occasion while on watch in the pitchdark night, but rarely because ''Charlie'' was everywhere. So dark, some soldiers even tied themselves to a tree to make sure they did not get lost wandering even a few feet from their post.

These soldiers sweated it out. Mostly Blacks from the deep south. Army recruiters promised them a nice career, a bright future, then it was basic training, AIT, and a ticket to an airbase near Saigon. barely off the plane and off they were to a battle zone to be serve as the usual fudder. Their medals they earned. A whole year in the field, for the lucky ones. Then they had thegreen officers, West Pointers and all who HAD to get in a firefight so they could get their Combat Infantry Badge which ensured further advancement. No CIB? might as well resign right there, you're going nowhere in this man's army. The trick was that rhere were so many of them, they had, not a one year rotation in the field, oh no. Six months would do, thus added pressure on all, including the platoon leaders, who knew all the tricks. Some Lieutenants heeded the advice, some did not, so they led their groups to perdition.

Of course sometimes over the course of a firefight, you could see the choppers above. Not just a few providing cover fire, but like a layered cake. Two tiers and three. Not to provide the said fire cover, but because the majors, colonels and all could say they'd been there, part of that action and eventually get their meritory badges.

Insane. Even when planes were called in to clear an area, the pilots could not let go of their loads until and unless cleared by the war room in Washington.

James asked him to take his Purple Heart along, did not want to come himself. Would not care to have to talk about these times of ''glory''. He remebered the time when they got back to Oakland for their separation from the army. Big huge sign saying ''Welcome Home'' at the entrance way........but nobody there to greet them. Such was that crazy war. Nobody really cared. Except rhe ''peace and love'' protesters ''pot heads'' James called them, with a smile in his face because he, like kost of the guys around, had induldged in something or other, sometimes a lot worse than grass.

He thought that, actually, james would have liked to make a career of the army, but impossible of course because at one time or another their special friendship was sure to come out and then it eould be hell. Not only the macho harassment but most likely a dishonorable discharge. Even today, the armed services, all services, had difficulties with this. Imagine over fifty years ago. So they both left, enjoyed their discreet, mostly in-the-closet relationship and a proud moment was taking place today as he placed the Purple Heart in the capsule to the applause of the others. ''Thanks for your service'' they said, as he simply bowed, as per the wish of his friend to stay discreet. As always.

October 04, 2020 22:31

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