Utah

We had fought hard that day trying to push the yellow peril back from the river. I am color blind, so I could assess their movement through the binoculars. They couldn’t hide for long, we knew right where to aim our guns. They had our waterway, we needed our supplies, so it was necessary to rout them out. Such a small thing in a way, just an insignificant river, yet we bloodied our selves to a pulp over it. At dusk the barrage halted and, it was a good thing too, I was exhausted.

On a hill overlooking that near freezing muddy little stream, the order came to bivouac.
Utah, Willie, Joe and me, dug our foxhole out. It was going to be the warmest place to escape this godforsaken frozen wasteland for a few hours. The reward of rest allowed me to will my arms to shove the spade deeper into the ground. Though it was riskier to bivouac up on the hill, closer to the river the ground would be too out in the open.

Settling into our little cave, we dug into our packs for grub. Now the army tried to spice up our lives a little by changing the labels on it but it didn’t fool us. We knew that it would be an endless supply of meat, beans and tomato sauce. But, when you worked hard all day and it was the only thing you had to eat, with a little imagination you could almost convince your self it was a T-bone steak, well….almost. Desert was always an after dinner cigarette with a pack of matches. With nothing to do, we sat in the fox hole, in the dark, and exchanged stories from home. Brief glimpses of expressions would flame up in the occasional strike of a match. Willie talked about his girlfriend, we would take in her dizzy headed 36-26-36 curves and get horny. Joe would talk about his mom’s letters, we would savor every meal she prepared in his absence.

Utah didn’t say much, he just mostly listened. Utah, that was his actual name, not a nickname. Named after a cultist state, and no, he wasn’t a Mormon. None of us ever knew what Utah was. Joe called him God,. Willie called him Satan. Guess it was all in the way you got him when he finally chose to acknowledge your presence. To me, Utah was a state of being.

Last week on patrol, we were pushing through a sector of dense growth, Utah, minding his own business, moving as quiet as an Indian, suddenly took the notion to settle his hand into my chest quite hard. Being as I respond so well to suggestion, I stopped. He riveted me with those strange swirly eyes of his and said, “Go no further.” When I saw that look I never argued with it, even when it came from a little kid. Bending down as if he was creeping up on prey, he put a finger to his lips, “Shhhh.” We were out in the middle of a high mountain wilderness with the wind howling and he said, “Shhh?” But, it was Utah, so I hushed up. Because Utah was squatting, I looked down at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a straight wire in front of my laced ankle. Sweat flooded me and I almost collapsed as Utah calmly said, “Maybe we go this other way.” Guess you could say, since Utah saved my ass, I would think he was God too. He was something, but I don’t know what.

Now with visions of apple pie and roast beef being handed to me on a platter by Willie’s girlfriend in the buff, I am trying to fall asleep, but, I am restless. The big gun is still pounding in my left ear. Can’t get away from it no matter which way I turn in my mummy bag.

“Ah, hell,” I think, “Gonna light another cigarette. But it has to be my last one, gotta make them last till dinner ration tomorrow.”

Utah is still awake as well, but no use getting into a conversation with him. He’s already in one, the same one he is in every night as he holds court with the unseen. This alone spooks the hell out of Willie, he says, “Ain’t no use to talking to something that ain’t there when live conversation is in front of you.”

But, who knows what is in front of Utah, he seems to see it all, whatever it is that isn’t there.

“Damn, my cigarette tastes like ditch water, some how it got wet.”

Suddenly I feel like exhaustion is going to muffle out the drumming in my head so I stub out the cigarette.

As soon as I settle my eyes, I feel the affirming hand of a preacher grip my shoulder.

“Shhhh,” he says and I can almost see his insanely bright eyes through the darkness. Willie wants to argue and Joe is almost too sound asleep. But, Utah is insistent that we follow him. I hear Willie say, “I ain’t gonna go chasing no damn goose half way over a mountain in the dark.”

But after what happened to me earlier, I feel that I should follow him. As we stand out side of the fox hole, Willie turning the air blue in the dark bone chilling night only a crumpling thud could stop his ranting. The ground vibrated under my feet and I looked back. Striking a match I could see a plume of dust where the foxhole had been. We were all just astounded, only Joe’s mellow voice broke the thick air, “What do you mean they told you about it, Utah? Just who in the hell is, they?”

All i knew is that Utah had just saved, not just my ass, but everyone’s ass. ”Joe called it divine providence, Willie said the devil had his ear. Me, I was just grateful for a strange gift named after an enigmatic state.