Narrative-+The+Na-Koi+Event

Ian O’Neil 5/24/12

 Alex ran though the jungle, feeling the blood trickle down his arm. Sweat covered his face as he ran. His breaths were heavy and unregulated. He heard more gunshots and the yells of the Vietcong forces behind him. The pain in his arm was intense and carrying forty pounds of equipment wasn’t helping. A shot was fired and Alex felt the speed of the bullet blast past his ear. His hands were sweaty as he struggled to hold on to his gun. He turned and fired a bullet, hitting the abdomen of one of the Vietcong troops. The soldier fell instantly.  The Vietcong weren’t even phased by the death of one of their own, they were focused on stopping Alex. Alex went behind a tree and slammed into it. He grabbed his rifle from his back and opened fire, shooting two and leaving one soldier, who was so dazed that he turned tail and ran.  Alex was breathing hard, the pain in his arm felt like someone had placed hot coals all over it, luckily, Alex trained as a medic. He pulled out a bottle of liquid that would help stop infection. He poured it over his arm, the wound stung badly. However the bullet wasn’t stuck in Alex’s arm which would have forced him to pull the bullet out with a pair of pliers. He wrapped the wound tightly with cloth bandages and applied pressure to the wound, Alex cringed in pain. He tried thinking about something happy, like the day he met his squad, or when his dad took him to his first Cubs game. This tactic didn’t work.  “God damn it. Shhhh my god. Arrrrrggggg!” Alex muttered to himself.  The blood was beginning to stop flowing, this seemed to a good sign that the pressure was helping. Alex kept the pressure consistent, as he propped himself up and staggered to his feet. He began to run back from where he came. Hopefully, more than he had survived the Vietcong ambush.  He wasn’t sure how far he had run to get away from the invaders after taking the bullet. He sure didn’t want to see a Vietcong soldier when he got back. After about a 5 mile run back to camp he noticed that some people at the camp were wounded. He heard a wail of pain from a familiar voice.  “Spoons? Spoons, is that you?”  “No, its your Great Aunt Betsy”  “Where did you get hit?”  “My calf, shhhh, God damn”  Alex looked at Spoons’ calf and bandaged him up quickly and walked him over to one of the chairs by the medical bay. Spoons would need more help later.  “Spoons.”  “Yeah.”  “Do you know how many people are still alive?”  “I don’t know, most people ran off, but there is at least three who are here.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Spoons looked horrified. His inch thick glasses were crooked and his lanky limbs were shivering, his lips pursed together like he was trying to forget what had just happened. Alex went around patching up 2 more people, Lt. Hobbs, and Pvt. Jamison. When Alex reached the third man, he was dead. He took a bullet to his shoulder and had probably bled out before Alex noticed him. On his uniform beneath the blood stains was the name Sgt. Barker. Alex leaned over and closed Barker’s eyes, remembering the man who had helped so much throughout the war in making Alex feel comfortable. Alex looked into Barker’s pocket and found a picture of his family. Alex took the photo and and placed it in his chest pocket, making a promise he would return this picture to Barker’s family. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Hey Hawthorne,” Someone yelled from the bushes opposite of the clearing. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> A man in an american uniform walked out from the clearing holding a rifle in one hand and a water bottle in the other. It was Sully. Sully was a black man who enlisted in the army to escape the racism back in the States. Sully had black curly hair which held tightly to his head. His arms and legs were bulky and he had hands the size of dinner plates. Everyone was glad to see Sully again, because Sully was one of the hardest workers everyone in the squad had ever known. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Sully! Sully are you alright?” Jamison shouted across the clearing <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Yeah, I’m alright,” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Is Grayson with you?” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Sully looked down, avoiding eye contact with Jamison until he was face to face with the cadet. Sully very softly whispered something in Jamison’s ear. Jamison’s eyes widened and he lips began to tremble. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “You have no idea how sorry I am,” Sully said in a melancholy tone, now it became clear. Grayson had died. The group had lost 2 people all because of one ambush. Alex felt helpless and he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Alex walked over to the makeshift medical bay and sat down on the examination table. He could feel his heart pulsing. Never had he been so angry in his life. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “What do we do now?” Spoons questioned looking over to Lt. Hobbs longingly for an answer. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “We need to stay focused on our mission as heartless as that sounds. We were brought here to help the town of Na-Koi and get the Guerilla forces out of there.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “First I should patch up the rest of the guys. After all how are we supposed to protect a town without running at full capacity.” Alex said as he began to look at Spoons’ leg. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Good idea Hawthorne, now there is only one problem how are the five of us gonna defend a village infested with Vietcong?” Sully chimed in. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “We’re gonna need to be disciplined there is no doubt about that,” Lt. Hobbs said again. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I say we take out the Vietcong systematically, after all they are Guerilla forces. We each take a part of the village and move house to house, easy.” Pvt. Jamison said shocking everyone with his superior skill in planning. Silence fell over the men, in awe of the idea Jamison had come up with. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Well you heard the man let’s get moving,” Lt. Hobbs said <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Yeah for Barker and Grayson!” the rest of the squad shouted. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> The men began to walk to where they were told the village was located. The men stopped at the end of the brush and noticed that there was a concrete wall. The wall was covered in tiny craters about the size a bullet impact would make from a 10 foot range, and on the wall were five distinct red marks that started about 6 feet up and trickled down to 3 feet high. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind. This was an execution wall. The places where so many innocent people lost their lives at the hands of the Vietcong. Alex kept looking at the town. He noticed that on the tin roofs of three of the houses were Vietcong soldiers, at least ten of them. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> The group heard screams coming from the execution wall as the soldiers pulled out three men and lined them up to the wall. The screams of their wives and children were deafening. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I can’t take anymore of this, we have to save them,” Alex said muttering under his breath. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I agree with Hawthorne we should take them out right now, before we have civilian blood on our hands,” Sully said as he lined up a shot with the executioner’s head. Sully had a look of pure determination on his face, he didn’t want anyone but the Vietcong to die here. Sully fired the bullet from he rifle. The bullet whizzed by as the barrel blasted backwards, at the same time the bullet dug it’s way into the executioner’s head. All the Vietcong jumped into to action and began shooting at the troops relative position. Alex and Spoons ran one way pulling out their pistols and firing rapidly and randomly. Jamison and Hobbs ran in another direction and Sully went into a straight away charge. A Vietcong soldier had his gun pointed at Alex. Spoons saw the soldier and fired a bullet into the guerilla’s leg, who fell over in pain. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex kept running, he couldn’t see anyone now. He felt the picture of Barker’s family in his chest pocket. He heard a the sounds of bullets flying and bodies hitting the ground, this wasn’t an ambush anymore, this was a full out firefight! Alex kept running and shooting. He ran into one of the villager’s shacks. Alex began helping the people inside escape. As he performed this task, he saw Jamison fall over by the execution wall. His body laid limp. Alex kept his focus, and threw a grenade onto one of the hut’s rooftop. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Hey Hawthorne, are we need a medic over here!” Hobbs yelled bending over Jamison’s body. Alex ran over and and threw a smoke bomb behind him for a distraction. He felt Jamison’s pulse. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “He’s breathing but barely,” Alex said hurriedly, “We need to get him into one of these huts.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex and Hobbs lifted Jamison up and carried him into the closest hut. Alex pulled out his pliers and found the bullet lodged in his hip. Jamison was bleeding badly. Alex grabbed the bullet with the pliers and began to pull it out of Jamison’s hip. Jamison wailed in pain. Alex began to stitch up the wound as he heard the bullets being blasted out of their barrels. Alex finished stitching up the wound, poured some alcohol on to it, stop the chance of infection and then began to apply major pressure onto the wound. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Alex...did the plan work,” Jamison muttered <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Well your plan is still in action,” Alex said, applying even more pressure onto Jamison’s wound. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “If I don’t make it” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Don’t talk like that” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Please tell my girlfriend,” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Jamison please stop talking like that,” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Tell her that everything will be all right” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Jamison please stop talking like that, please,” Alex was crying now, he felt a wave of cold, hard reality dawn on him. He couldn’t save Barker or Grayson and now he wouldn’t be able to save Jamison <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex kept the pressure on the wound as he could still hear the bullets flying towards their targets. Alex felt Jamison’s pulse begin to fade. The beats were slower and fainter until they stopped. Alex moved his hands over to Jamison’s heart, began to push. This had no affect so Alex began give Jamison mouth to mouth resuscitation, a last resort which only worked 20% of the time it was given. Alex hoped Jamison was in that 20%. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex’s salty tears began to fall onto Jamison’s body, until he felt Lt. Hobbs hand on his shoulder. Alex looked up and Hobbs shook his head and pulled Alex up to his feet. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I’m sorry soldier,” Hobbs said quietly <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I could have saved him,” Alex said <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “There was nothing you could do.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “I could of saved him!” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Hawthorne calm down.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “How the hell can I calm down when I just killed a man!” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “You were trying to save him.”  “Yeah and look out how great that turned out!”  “Hawthorne calm down right now.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Okay so now your my dad gotcha.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Hawthorne! I order you to stop beating the crap out of yourself.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Shut up! Just shut up! A man died because of me, all because I couldn’t do my god damn job! Can’t you see that?” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Alex!” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> This caught Alex’s attention, nobody but Spoons had ever called him by his first name. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Alex, listen, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I know it and Jamison knew it, Alex you saved my life once, you saved Spoons life, and you saved Jamison’s life at the ambush. There is nothing that should make you feel the way you do.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex sat for a minute, the weight of his medical equipment and M16 on his back. All of a sudden he noticed something, all the gunfire was gone. Not a bullet was being shot, nor a wail of pain being uttered. Alex walked outside and noticed the Vietcong soldiers laying on the ground. He turned and noticed Spoons and Sully helping the Vietnamese villagers resume their daily lives. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Well thanks for the help you two,” Spoons said in his usual sarcastic tone. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “How is Jamison?” Sully asked a look of concern covered his face <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “He died, took a shot to the hip and bled out,” Alex said, wiping the tears off of his face. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Hawthorne I’m sorry. I wish I could have helped.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Don’t be sorry Sully, its not your fault its the Vietcong’s” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex looked over to the spot where Jamison was shot, a small puddle of his blood sprawled across the dirt. Alex looked away not wanting to think about what happened in the tin roof shack. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> “Don’t worry Jamison, I’ll tell your girlfriend it will be alright.” <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> Alex noticed that Hobbs was carrying Jamison’s body. They grabbed one of the village’s shovels and dug a grave placing Jamison’s body into it. Sully wound together two sticks into the shape of a cross and stabbed it into the ground. They each took a turn putting a pile of dirt on top of Jamison’s body; each time saying something good and wholesome about Jamison’s character. When the burial was finished they placed Jamison’s helmet on top of the cross and his boot below it. <span style="color: #05590c; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> The picture of Barker’s family in Alex’s pocket felt heavy and Jamison’s last words still rang in his ears. He was going to have to break the hearts of two families when he returned from war. Alex felt a giant hand squeeze his shoulder. He turned, now looking face to face with Sully. Alex worked up a small smile as they walked past the tin roof huts and saw the villagers begin tearing down the wall that taunted them for so many months. Alex turned and thought that maybe, just maybe victory would finally be in the United States’ grasp. Alex walked with the remaining soldiers of squad 56b heading back to the clearing, where the set up camp so many months ago. The hot Vietnamese sun shined down on Alex’s face. Alex squinted and smiled, hoping that a new day was finally emerging.

<span style="color: #07520f; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;">Now we have a problem in making our power credible, and Vietnam is the place.

<span style="color: #07520f; font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;">--John F. Kennedy, 1961