Vietnam II: A War Novel Episode 2 (V2) Read Free

he must know a lot about me.  I thought for a moment I was some kind of security risk with the build up against Vietnam.  Thoughts of Japanese internment camps passed through my brain.
    “He was a university professor.”  I said.
    “Yeah but he also informed for the CIA.”
    “I don’t know much about that.”  In truth I didn’t.  My father had mentioned it rarely, but he mentioned it enough that it was probably true.
    “How much can you bench press?”  Mustache guy asked still worried about my body.  I ignored him.
    “You got family in Vietnam?”  Todd asked.
    “Cousins.  An uncle I have never met.”
    “How good can you shoot?”  Mustache man asked.
    “I am an expert marksman.”  I was proud of that one.  I got the ribbon and everything.  Only one of three airmen in my basic training flight who did.
    “Air Farce standards,” He looked unimpressed.
    This was about Vietnam.  The POWs had been in the news almost nonstop.  My mom talked about it every week when we spoke on the phone. 
    “You like being an air traffic controller?”  Todd asked.
    “Yes I do.”  It was the truth.
    “You speak Vietnamese?”  Todd asked revealing the truth of the matter.
    “Yes,”
    “And Mandarin?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Fluently?”  Todd asked.
    “Read this.”  The man who had not introduced himself passed a book over to me.  The other man, who was slightly older than the other two, had not said a word.
    I picked up the book and looked at it.  It was a Vietnamese cook book that was from the sixties.  It looked like they had picked it up in a paperback book store.  Its cover was brown and it was hanging by a thread.  The pages were yellowed and it had water stains.
    I opened it to the first page and started to read.
    “Out loud,” The quiet man with no name said.
    “Toi hy vong ban thich gao.  Banh mi la gi?”
    “Stop.”  The quiet man said.
    “Jesus Christ that language is like fucking nails on a chalkboard.” 
    “Thanks”
    “No offense.”  The mustache guy offered.
    “Why didn’t you go into linguistics?”
    “I didn’t want to be stuck in some embassy somewhere listening to a radio.”
    “You wanted to be a Combat Controller though.  Didn’t make the cut in basic.”  Mustache guy said.
    That had been three years ago when I first enlisted.  Combat Controllers were the special forces of the Air Force.  They came to each basic training flight and show a video of what they do.  Everyone is invited to try out.  I had gone for it.  You got to spend a day running around an obstacle course and swimming in a pool.  It was better than getting ripped by the MTI all day.  I had always been athletic, but I had not really taken it seriously.
    “You almost did though.  Did they tell you that?”  Todd asked.
    “How fast can you run a mile?”
    “5 minutes 34 seconds.”
    “How much can you bench?”
    “150 pounds.”
    “Christ!  My mom can do more than that.”  Mustache man sneered.  “Look at those tiny arms.”
    “Give him a break.”  Todd said.
    “Think you can carry a fifty pound ruck?”  The Quiet man asked.
    “Yes,” What the hell was I getting myself into?
    “What do you say Jeff?”  The Quiet man asked the Mustache man revealing his name at last.
    “Won’t be much of a load if we have to carry him at least.”  Jeff answered.
    “He’ll do.”  The Quiet Man said.  “My name is Scott Walters.  I intend to put you in harm’s way.”
    “We need a translator.  The personnel computer came up with your name on a very short list.  If you accept you will be deployed in the field with us for a period of a few weeks.”  Todd explained.
    “Where?”  I asked.
    “Thailand and then possibly into Vietnam.”  Scott Explained.
    “Everything from this point forward is classified.  That means keep your fucking mouth shut.  Don’t tell your mama or your girl.”  Jeff said giving me a hard look.
    “Are you guys Green