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Base camp, Marble Mountain, Republic of Vietnam, 1967. The pointy end of time’s arrow swept into a new day four hours ago. In flat, predawn light I sit up high on the seat of a deuce-and-a-half ton truck and watch collective consciousness bring order out of chaos. Thirty men move about deliberately over short distances, on momentary missions. They form small groups, eyes meet under hat brims, they talk softly and directly, nod heads and quickly disband to form other small groups or to kneel onto the ground to check out equipment lying there. Occasionally a man runs over to the lighted team house for something forgotten and then with a slap of the screen door quickly returns, drawn back by gravity of belonging and gathering momentum. The men wear their web gear unhitched around the waist, giving them a casual look. But the webbing is loaded with grenades and ammo, and it hangs heavy across their shoulders, swinging ponderously awkward as they move about. A dozen ammo cans sit on the ground with their lids pulled open looking like yawning pelicans. Backpacks litter the ground, some solely, others in small piles. A large hump shows the medical pack, bulky and heavy with things none want used on them. The M-60 machinegun rests on its bipeds without an apparent owner, patiently waiting with its six-foot feed of ammo belt wrapped around the action. Some rifles are slung taut against shoulders. Most lay on packs. Others lean against truck tires and rear bumpers and there’s something about their posture that shows they’re neither lost nor misplaced, rather, patiently waiting on the sidelines for their partners and another dance with death.

After the scurrying about settles down to its maximum potential, Bob Price calls out, “Saddle up. Move em’ out.” With enthusiastic responses of “Yee hah,” any remaining uncertainty is left behind by the collective energy of men falling in. The right pack is grabbed. The M-60 is hoisted to a shoulder, bipeds collapsed, business end forward. Everyone moves towards the trucks....

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• Over the Line
• Caribou Park
• Silent Night
• The Opening
• Clouds
• Learning to Pray in a Very Tight Spot
• Language of Rivers
• The Home Front

© Copyright 2004 Keith R. Parker