CHAPTER 29

The South China Sea

The chopper changed course and threw Rick off balance. He crashed against a bulkhead and fell on top of Happy, who was wounded in the chest. He peered aft, in a daze, and noted the carnage:

One of the side gunners was wasted. He was slumped across his M-60 with his aviation helmet torn off and his forehead missing. Sunny was resisting Russo's help by holding onto his leg with both hands in an effort to stop the pain. And Kafka was crying as Bearcat attended to his gut wound.

Mormon pushed him aside to assist Happy. He knew Rick was still a bit stunned by the blow to his head.

Rick felt the wind blowing violently around him as he stood up. He staggered and danced over the discarded web gear in a vain attempt to gain a foothold. He tripped on a cartridge belt instead.

“Easy does it!” Wishbone shouted, above the noise of the chopper. He was sitting calmly against a bulkhead with his backpack and radio still strapped to his back. He lit two cigarettes and gave Rick one. “Come on, have a seat and stay out of their way! They've got enough to do without having to worry about you!”

Rick gratefully inhaled the sweet-tasting smoke, then managed to stand up. “Thanks!”

He noted the other side gunner standing by his partner and, instead of sitting down, he assisted him with the dead man; they laid him near the cockpit's entrance and covered his face with a blanket.

“He was a new guy!” the gunner shouted. “Just got in country!”

“That's a tough break!” Rick passed him his cigarette.

“That's the way it always seems to work! They either get it in the beginning or just before they're going home! It doesn't make any sense!”

“No, it doesn't!”

Rick looked through the window and saw the cobalt blue South China Sea below them. The gunner handed the cigarette back to him and poked his head into the cockpit. Rick inhaled another drag and noted the rare beauty of the water. Then he tapped the gunner on the shoulder to get his attention. “Hey! Where are we going?”

The gunner looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Hospital Ship!”

Bearcat was already pointing at the white ship with the red cross on its side to the others by the time Rick turned to them with the news. The wounded were either calm or unconscious; their battle dressings were soaked with blood.

The chopper hit the flight deck hard. And when the rear gate was lowered, Rick helped Mormon carry Happy out onto the flight deck where they were met by a horde of white coats and clean faces. They quickly snatched Happy away, leaving them feeling empty and self-conscious in a place where everything looked crystal clean and clear. They felt like aliens standing on the face of the moon, like strangers in a strange land.

The remaining wounded and the dead gunner were also carried away, leaving the others in a state of shock. They backed into the aircraft like demented spirits, overwhelmed by the experience. The chopper lifted to the sky.

The wind blew.

The chopper whirred loudly.

There were three brothers, gone forever.