The Hick and the Dago
Jack Abington woke up suddenly. He felt disoriented, not unlike the way he felt when he was a little boy in summer camp for the first time. He took a deep breath and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He saw his footlocker first. Right, he thought, I’m in South Carolina, Fort Jackson; the army. He was on the upper bunk. In the bunk below him was Dennis Nicastro, an Italian kid from someplace in New Jersey.
“You awake?” he whispered, leaning over the side of his bunk a little.
“Been awake man. Who can sleep? We get our orders at 0-eight hundred.”
Jack rolled his body over to the edge of his bunk so he could be sure Dennis would hear him. “I heard yesterday we’re going to Germany,” he whispered.
“Who told you that?”
“Klegmyer said he overheard one of the non-coms talking about it.”
“Jack, we just finished eight weeks of advanced infantry training. No way we’re going to Germany. We’re getting shipped to Nam, man. Get used to it.”
“And who told you that?”
Private Nicastro laughed. “Common sense you hick.” Whenever Jack said something that sounded naïve, Nicastro, he called him that.
“Where I come from, a man’s word counts for something, Dago.” Nicastro taught Jack that word.
“Klegmyer isn’t a man. He’s a troll. They’ll probably send him to Heidelberg. We’re going to Da Nang, dipshit.”
The bunkmates quietly pondered the possibilities for a while. Although neither would admit it, they were petrified at the thought of combat. Certainly the enlisted men who trained them, the guys they met at the beerhalls on the base, who had been there, told horrifying stories of what happened to men in combat. Tales of punji traps, tripwires and snipers rattled the neophyte infantrymen. It wasn’t like World War II either. If the men were proud of their service, they were reluctant to show it. From the moment they set foot on the base, all trainees talked about were their chances of remaining stateside or going to Germany.
“You going to that jerkwater town in Tennessee for your three-day pass? Nicastro asked.
“Nolensville, I’m going to Nolensville. Then I’m going to Germany. But have fun in Viet Nam, Mr. Dipshit.”
Nicastro looked at his glow-in-the-dark watch. It would be reveille soon. The men were all packed, ready for a quick trip home before being shipped off to wherever the United States Army wanted them to go. “Maybe I’ll come with you instead of going home. I wouldn’t have to see my hairy wife then and that bratty kid she gave me.”
Jack sat up in his bunk. He was wide awake now. “Y’all want to come with me that’s fine, but I don’t think you should talk about your wife and your son like that.”
Reveille sounded and the young men got up and quickly went through their usual routines. The only difference was they were wearing their dress uniforms. Most of them would be taking public transportation home for their short leaves. After breakfast they got into formation and were marched to the auditorium where they would hear an address by the deputy base commander.
The general did his best to inspire the troops, but he was well aware that these men had only two things on their mind; going home and getting their orders.
When the general finished his talk, the men were marched to the field in front of the auditorium. E Company had five platoons. Jack and Dennis were in the 2nd. Platoon. They were itching to get back to their barracks, pick up their duffel bags and head for the Columbia Airport. Every soldier in the company stood and waited anxiously for his name to be called. The captain handed the platoon sergeants their orders. The sergeant running the 1st platoon was quick. The men in the 2nd. platoon heard the shouts of glee. Germany, man! Did you get Germany? I did! Me too!
Klegmyer was right. Jack looked over to Dennis with a knowing smile. He heard his name called and reached for his orders. He ripped open the envelope and read his fortune. He wasn’t going to Germany.