Nightmare On July 4

I was walking through the woods at my home the evening of July 4, 2016, when I heard three booms, the all-too-familiar sound of grenades in the swamps behind a small Vietnam village. Five of us are on our way to search out every hooch for gooks.

BOOM!

"Damn, Sarge! We've been spotted!"

We all hit the ground and barely breathed. Two more:

BOOM! ... BOOM!

There were the sounds of rifle fire. We could hear the crackle of anti-aircraft missiles and the subsequent booms.

"Hey, Sarge! ... Sarge! Where are you, Sarge?

Shorty! Jackson ...Where are you guys?"

The exclamation, "Alone!" pounded in my head like a rock. "They got Sarge, Jackson, Shorty and that new kid from Oklahoma!

BOOM! BOOM! ... BOOM!

"Lay chilly! Lay chilly!"* My heart pounded between my ears; sweat running like a salty river from my brow and stinging my eyes. "More yelling up the hill. Flare! I saw it! ...and laughing. Children??? It makes no sense. People talking loudly. And all this mortar fire, grenade explosions and the cracks of sniper rifles. Crap! Is that foo gas? Nape?*"

"Sarge! Sarge! Jackson! Hey Shorty!"

"Are you okay, Honey?" I spun around in terror, looking back over my shoulder as I lay prostrate on the leaves and an ant mound releasing its own warriors to attack. "Did I get my Monday pill this week? Cindy! Get down!" I grabbed her leg and tried to pull her down. But she clung to the tree and said, "It's July Fourth fireworks, baby. Everything's fine.

It seemed like three minutes for my heart to descend back through my throat, into my chest. "Yes," I thought. "That's fireworks. The neighbors shoot them every holiday." I laid there on my back, cursing, saying words Cindy should never hear from my mouth but has heard for forty years. "I'm sorry, Honey." "I know. It's okay. Let's get back to the house before it's too dark to see."

The booms kept sounding and I was still seeing split-second gooks with rifles pointed at us. Cindy was holding my arm in hers and she softly said, "We're home now. Let's go in and eat supper."

"July Fourth. Damn how I hate it every year! I know people have to celebrate. I wish I could. It's American, for Heaven's sake! "That's right, Baby. Here's another biscuit. Want some more gravy?" "I dreamed about Sarge again last night. He's still over there, Cindy. They ain't brought him home. Poor Yvonne. Mikey grew up without his dad. Where's my medicine?" "Agent Orange?" "Yeah. It's a wonder I'm still alive." "I know, Baby. Think about your grandkids; they'll be here in a few minutes." "I don't think I can take it. I'm going to bed. Can you keep them quiet?" "They're gonna want to see you. A few minutes with them and you'll be fine. Here's your pill." "Thanks, Cindy. Thanks for everything." "It's okay. You're my hero. And you certainly are a hero to Denise and Carl ... and the grandkids. You keep on being special, honey. We'll have a nice evening." "No TV." "No TV, just family time."

(She hugged me.)

©Ronnie

*lay chilly: freeze, lay dead still.
**foo gas: a mixture of explosives and napalm.
**napalm: a jellied petroleum substance which burns fiercely, and is used as a weapon against personnel.
**nape: napalm.