The Most Important Thing. David GrossЧитать онлайн книгу.
just don’t want to let anyone down because of my eyes,” stated Kentuck.
“Kentuck, I think I’ll kick Jerkowitz’s ass tonight,” Dutch announced.
“Don’t do it, Dutch; it ain’t worth it,” pleaded Kentuck, not wanting trouble for Dutch. Yet, debating with Dutch was futile.
The farmer, Kentuck, and the city slicker, Dutch, were opposites but became great friends. Kentuck lacked a high school diploma and Dutch attended college. Kentuck seriously studied when he attended school. Dutch majored in drinking and minored in removing bras with one hand. Kentuck thought Army pay a king’s ransom, Dutch was unimpressed with the meager pay. An unlikely patriot, the law drove Dutch to arms.
“Kentuck, don’t worry, it ain’t nothing to me,” grinned Dutch, and that was all.
That night everyone slept. Dutch woke a little after midnight, a common occurrence for him. On this evening, he quietly walked to Jerkowitz’s bunk, found his fatigue pants, and extracted the wallet. Then, he silently slipped away into the night.
Dutch crept to the fence, keeping in the shadows. He escaped over a half-dozen times and he had it down cold. Once again, the guards and the dogs didn’t notice the six-foot private. To Dutch, the dogs were for show.
Dutch visited Sadie’s to slake his thirst. Hazel, the waitress, knew Dutch and protected him. Hazel was old enough to be Dutch’s mother and looked old enough to be his grandmother. Dutch didn’t want anything from Hazel but a drink. Also, he tipped well. Dutch had manners and grace. He never overstayed his welcome at Sadie’s. When the MPs (“Military Police”) checked the forbidden club, Hazel alerted Dutch hiding him in the back. She hadn’t done that for any of the other AWOL (“Absent Without Official Leave”) privates. Most privates were rude and stupid. When the weary waitress rejected some reckless private’s amorous entreaties, the unreasonable ones occasionally abused her.
That night Dutch stayed for only two beers. He walked outside, turning the collar of his thin jacket. Not many people wandered that night with weather for the hard-core alone. Dutch approached a telephone booth just a few yards away from the bar and called the police.
“There’s a damn drunk private in a phone booth outside Sadie’s,” Dutch yelled at the duty policeman on the phone, “Looks like he is changing into Army clothes in the damn phone booth in front of God and everybody! He looks drunk and dangerous to me.” Dutch removed Jerkowitz’s wallet from his pocket tossing it on the floor of the phone booth.
Dutch crossed the street keeping in the safety of the shadows. The Fayetteville police arrived shortly afterward. The policeman switched on his blinking lights and exited his prowl car. The uniformed officer approached the phone booth. The policeman flashed his light around seeing no one. The policeman approached the glass booth. The receiver dangled. The officer opened the folding door and replaced the receiver on the cradle. He saw the wallet on the floor and retrieved it. Dutch witnessed enough. He returned to the camp, changed his clothes, and retired to his bunk unseen.
The wallet returned to Fort Bragg with a vengeance. The local gendarmes delivered the wallet and a complaint to the camp commandant. The brass summoned Jerkowitz. Jerkowitz moaned over and over that he was innocent and ignorant. The private ducked the severe punishment of courts-martial because he maintained his stolen wallet story. Few believed him. By the end of the day, the entire post officer and noncommissioned officer corps gigged Jerkowitz. Everyone in authority eyeballed his every move. No one can survive that intense daily examination because everyone has flaws and makes mistakes. Two days later, Jerkowitz was set back to his first day of Basic Training. The Army had judged Jerkowitz without any type of tribunal. It was Basic Training punishment, not punishment that blackened Jerkowitz’s permanent record. Still, Jerkowitz started Basic Training again.
The humiliation of Jerkowitz delighted Kentuck and Dutch. There would be no retaliation because neither planned on seeing him again. The real truth never surfaced because Dutch swore Kentuck to secrecy, and Kentuck never broke his vow.
Usually quiet and reserved, Dutch was the only soldier who never received a letter from home. Sergeant McCloskey once asked some of the men if Dutch was an orphan. Though lonesome and morose, Dutch was an excellent soldier. He excelled at close-order drill, the manual of arms, and he could assemble his M-1 rifle in pitch-black darkness. He shot with mechanical precision. At that time, none of the men knew Dutch because Dutch’s least favorite topic was himself.
One characteristic of the Dutchman was readily apparent; Dutch drank heavily. Kentuck, a rebel in his own way, liked Dutch, and they grew very close, but he still never reached the inner man. Dutch wore layer upon layer of skepticism like an emotional suit of armor. He grinned quickly and easily, but seemed eternally unhappy. Dutch, the trickster, rebelled against all authority with a sardonic sense of humor. He constantly schemed. Nothing merely playful satisfied the bandit nature of Dutch. No short-sheeter of beds, Dutch preferred dangerous ventures like escaping from camp for a night of fun in town. The Army never caught the daring Dutch. His other chief character flaw was his temper. When angry, Dutch fought like a bull.
The ancient method of Basic Training succeeded, the boys became men and the men became soldiers. Through the days of physical and emotional stress, a bond grew between most of the soldiers and they became friends. Finally, the big day approached when Basic Training ended. Utter delight beamed upon the faces of all of Kentuck’s friends. The Army rewarded the company with a weekend pass permitting them to leave the post. The graduates decided to make fools of themselves. To the disbelief of the sergeants, the recruits finally accomplished something perfectly. With the pass came a long list of “off limit” establishments. Sadie’s was at the top of the list. One of the first things a soldier learns is the location of the local whorehouses, gin mills, poker parlors, and clubs. The underground network of the camp identified every place forbidden to the new recruit. Upon receiving their first leave, the forbidden fruit tempted the privates.
After enduring the abuse of Basic Training, Kentuck spent twelve weeks camping out of doors at Advanced Training. In Advanced Training, the soldiers learned to maneuver like an army by working field problems. While companies, regiments, and battalions are comprised of many men, the goal is team unity. Kentuck camped in tents in the countryside of North Carolina. The advanced trainees suffered from strict discipline and bad food, but nothing compared to Basic Training. Advanced Training seemed easier because the soldiers understood army life. The stress declined with their understanding. The bodies of the young men became leaner and harder. They laughed at the Rainbows arriving at Fort Bragg every day.
When the troops completed their training, they prepared for war in Europe. Army training was mulish in that once it started moving toward a goal, it took a major amount of tugging to change direction. Though unknown at the time, the training fit poorly for war in Asia. At the end of Advanced Training, the boys received posts in the regular army. Finally, months of military training meant action.
As the day of graduation from Advanced Training approached, two important events occurred. First, news spread that the North Korean Communists invaded South Korea. When the North Korean People’s Army (“NKPA”) invaded on June 25, everyone showed riveting interest.
Kentuck said, “Where’s Korea?”
In a little corner of the world freedom was in danger, but the boots of Fort Bragg would soon be there. Circumstances can change from the time a soldier enlists till the time he completes his training. The world moved from uneasiness to war.
At that time, the Army recruiters approached the graduates looking for fresh meat for the 82nd Airborne Division. The slick recruiters promoted the Airborne with enthusiastic pitches, but salesmanship has its limits. The privates lacked an ounce of enthusiasm. It was like asking a flock of recently plucked pigeons of a con game to buy in again. Many soldiers already regretted their initial encounter with their recruiter. Most had had enough of volunteering to last a lifetime. The unwritten rule quickly learned by all soldiers is: never volunteer for anything. The pitch went over like boiled neck bones for dinner. Airborne training required another eight weeks of Fort Bragg. Ugh! Airborne training meant jumping from airplanes in perfect operational order. Who could