A Soldiers Coming Home

This story is fiction with the exception of the ending. I was a witness to a similar event when I was young and I always wondered what that soldiers story might have been.

I heard a song by the Dixie Chicks the other day that gave me the story line and the main character is a compilation of several of my friends who had gone off to war. Here it is

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It was a few weeks past his 18th birthday when he stopped at the Kressgee lunch counter; He hadn’t eaten all day and was waiting for a Greyhound Bus to take him to Marine Boot Camp.

The waitress at the counter was a pretty little girl with long black hair. She noticed he was kind-of shy, but cute…so she gave him a sweet smile. When she brought back the order, he asked if she would stay and talk for a while cause he was feeling kinda low. He didn’t have much family and his single mother was working, so there wasn’t anyone to see him off. She said: Listen, I get off in about 30 minutes and I know where we can go and talk for a little while……so he waited till she finished work.

They left the store and walked down Elizabeth Street to Horseshoe Lake. It was a warm August afternoon, so they sat under the shade of a mesquite tree on the banks of the lake. They talked about school, common friends, movies, and other sundry things. He had his guitar with him, so he sang her some songs. He liked some of the local artists like Rene-and-Rene and Freddie Fender, so he sang her “Angelito” and “El Hijo de Sue”. They had a great time!!!!

When it was time to leave he said: I know you probably have a boyfriend, but would you mind if I wrote to you; She said: Sure, I don’t mind.

So he departed and the letters started to come, first from a training camp in California and then Vietnam.

He told her of all his war experiences, about fellow Marines, and the country and people of Vietnam. He was assigned to a Huey Helicopter as a gunner taking soldiers back and forth to the jungle. He told her of their bravery and vulnerability. They were mostly boys close to his own age (18 thru 21) but fearless and determined in combat, but their vulnerability sometimes showed. He told her of how so many cried for their mothers when they were wounded or close to death. He was impressed by the comfort that a mother’s affection had on a human being. He told her of how all the soldiers longed to be back home and be with their sweethearts. He often told her he was hoping to come back home and...perhaps...they could get to know each other better.

He told her about the beauty of the Vietnamese countryside and how the morning sun would rise through the misty hills in a bright orange sky. He described how they would fly over the rivers and rice fields and watch the people working. The rice fields were stunning from the air with the winding patterns and rivers meandering through the countryside. It was a shame the country was at war.

Almost a year went by...it was a few days past his 19th birthday and close to completing his tour of duty. He was on a routine mission and just a few minutes from base camp; He relaxed and took off his flack jacket and sat watching the countryside. He started to think about going home and...maybe...he had a chance with that little girl with long black hair. He was no longer a shy skinny kid. He had developed a confidence that comes from being a Marine and the experiences of war. He was no longer scrawny but filled-in that green tee shirt quite well. He had a thin waist, thanks to all those sit-ups. His chest was deep and with well developed pecks, thanks to all the running and push-ups. His skin was dark and tan thanks to his mestizo heritage and the bright Vietnamese sun. He had a chiseled face with a strong jaw and light brown eyes-almost hazel. His hair was short and he was always clean shaven- like a good Marine. Yes!!!!…. He had indeed become a handsome young man!!!!!!.

As they crossed a riverbank, he saw a bluish-grey puff of smoke from the top of a tree. A millisecond later her heard a “dull thud” and what felt like a “sucker punch” on his chest as the snipers bullet penetrated his body. He fell backward and then started to slide out the hatch as the helicopter performed evasive maneuvers. The only thing that kept him from falling out was his restraint lanyard. He managed to lie on the floor of the aircraft; he was in shock and felt a deep stinging pain in his chest. He started to feel weak and his vision began to fade-to-gray while the whop-whop-whop sound of the helicopter became distant. The blood from his wound began to soak his tee shirt; it felt soothing because of the warmth. At first he was frightened but then began to relax as he realized what was happening. He began to think of the Rio Grande Valley, the feel of the dirt on his hands when he played marbles as a kid, the smell of mesquite trees in the misty air in the early morning, the sound of his mothers voice as she said: Adios Mijo, and the last thing he recalled as he drifted to eternity was. ….. the smile of that pretty little girl with long black hair.

A few weeks later in Brownsville, Texas there was a baseball game being played on Minnesota Street just down the road from the airport. The announcer stopped the game and said: Please, face the road and pay your respects to the passing procession. It was a hearse carrying a flag draped casket with the young Marine and an old ’62 Chevy following behind; his mother was sitting in the passenger seat.....weeping. All were quiet on the field as ladies placed their hands on their heart, players took their hats off, and veterans saluted. But hardly anyone noticed, crying by the concession stand was………………… a pretty little girl with long black hair.

Her soldier had come home………………..