Twenty-one
The Chieu Hoi, a scout for Charlie Company, came into the headquarters building. He stood in a corner and waited for a captain to notice him. Then he said: “Sir, my baby is sick. She is in Tam Ky, twenty miles from here. I must have a pass for three days to see her.”
The captain said: “Is your baby sick now? I wonder. Or are you afraid to go to the field with Charlie Company tomorrow? How come your baby gets sick just when Charlie Company’s going to the field?”
Quietly and unassured, the Chieu Hoi persisted: “Sick.”
The captain pushed back in his chair, tilting it onto its back legs. “Look, you’re a valuable man for us. You’ve got knowledge we GIs haven’t got—all about mines and booby traps, how to find the stuff without blowing a leg off. Right? A guy like you can spot ambushes in time to save some lives. You’re needed out there. You’re getting paid to go to the field tomorrow, not to run away on pass.”
Abashed, the Chieu Hoi said: “Not so. The baby is sick. The doctor—”
“See here,” the captain said, stern and fed up. “What do I do when my baby gets sick? Hell, my wife and kid are thousands of miles away. The kid gets sick, and my wife takes him to a doctor, simple as that. Or she goes down to the drugstore, buys some pills. Nothing to it. That’s how things work. But I don’t skip out on the first plane if I hear the kid’s got a high temperature.”
The Chieu Hoi said: “Not many good doctors here. Wife is afraid.”
“Now, damn it,” the captain said, “this here’s your goddamn war. I’m here to fight it with you and to help you, and I’ll do it. But you’ve got to sacrifice too. Tell me how this war’s gonna be won with you and others like you running off when things get tight? How? Hell, you’re an ex-VC, you know how they think, where they hide. If I come over here and bust my balls, well, shouldn’t you take the shit with everyone else?”
The Chieu Hoi said: “You are here for one year. I’ve been in war for many billion years. Many billion years to go.” He was embarrassed, not quite distraught. He turned to look for help from others in the office. A fellow’s pride will suffer when he pleads for favor. A fellow suffers when he is a suspect coward.
“Now, listen here, I want to help you, really,” the captain said. “But I’m a soldier, so are you, so’s everyone around this place. Sacrifice—it’s the name of the game. Why not just go down to Charlie Company and saddle up for the field. Have a beer or two, your kid will make it.”
“Baby very sick, maybe die. My wife is afraid.”
“Well, the soldiers down at Charlie, they’re afraid too. Maybe you can save some of them. You ain’t gonna save the baby.”
“They don’t like me, the people in Charlie Company.”
“Well, now it comes out. How come? There must be a reason?”
“I’m Chieu Hoi, old VC.”
“Shit, you save their asses, and they’ll fall in love with you,” the captain said. “Look, if you do a job and help out, they’ll like you just fine. Get their respect, and no sweat. Charlie Company will like you just fine. And your kid will be okay too.”
The Chieu Hoi mumbled “Never happen,” and he succumbed. He left by the front door, and it wasn’t a day before he was AWOL.