Guard Mount Cu Chi RVN Part III

As he set the crate of oranges down, he could hear the little people coming. They chattered all the way out the gate and, although Darjeeling didn't understand a word of Vietnamese and never would, he liked the sing-song cadence of the language and their happy voices. He oftened wondered how these people found happiness in these surroundings, but they did. He had to hurry now before they got too close to the cemetery. He reached into the bag that normally would carry his poncho liner that would keep the rain off. He knew he would be freezing without it but this was the only place he could hide his costume. He pulled out the Santa Clause hat and flowing white beard that he had gotten out of a closet at the USO Club. He positioned the crate of oranges in front of him and came to attention just as the Sargeant of the Day lead the little people past the cemetery. He thought that since it was sort of their Christmas and New Year's all rolled into one that he would give them all a present. He had found out in the villages that the Vietnamese loved oranges and so as each one filed past, he reached into the crate and picked up an orange, handing it to them with a hearty HO HO HO. This caused a cacophany of laughter from the little people and they stopped and crowded around as Darjeeling continued on his mission. "Beaucoup dinky-dao," they pointed and laughed at him and covered their mouths with the hand that didn't clutch the precious orange. He knew enough pidgen Vietnamese to know that they meant he was crazy, so he kept up the act. The Sargeant of the Day was flustered but he was laughing, too, to see them having fun and laughing. When everyone had received their orange, Darjeeling handed one to him, too, and said "Merry Christmas, Sarge." As the little people filed on out, they turned every now and then to see him wave and continue to shout HO HO HO. Then, as the sun set, Darjeeling took up the lonely vigil of guarding the spirits and fending off the cold, wondering if the NVA were on their way.

"Darjeeling, the Old Man wants to see you," Platoon Sargeant Tignor was tugging on the sheet at the end of his cot, and Darjeeling was still a little groggy from lack of sleep.

"Which Old Man would that be, Sarge?"

"None of you smart-ass comments, Darjeeling, you need to be at the Batallion Commander's HQ in ten minutes or your ass is grass."

"Am I in hot water, Sarge?"

"I hope so, now get going or I'll have to answer to him myself."

Darjeeling pulled on his fatigues, the same ones he had worn the night before. He made it to the HQ office about five minutes late as he was reminded by the Battalion clerk, a guy they called Guru. He had only been to see Lt. Col. Henry Lipard once before. Henry the Lip, Darjeeling called him, and that was for the time he got a speeding ticket in Dian which he refused to pay at the company level and was referred up the chain of command. Henry the Lip wouldn't let him off the hook for the speeding ticket even though Darjeeling told him that the MP didn't have radar. Guru told him that that speeding ticket had gone into his permanent 201 File. Darjeeling didn't care. After the military formalities were over, there he was in front of the Old Man and sitting next to an aged Vietnamese gentleman who smiled at Darjeeling as he sat down.

"Private Darjeeling, this gentleman is Mr. Tranh, he is the chief elder of the village outside the wire, and he is here to thank you for your generosity to the Vietnamese who work here on the base camp."

Mr. Tranh turned toward Darjeeling and reached out, touching his index finger to Darjeeling's hand. He started talking and Darjeeling wondered if anybody in the room could understand him. He didn't know that Henry the Lip was fluent in Vietnamese.

"Mr. Tranh here says you are known throughout the village as 'The-Man-Who-Guards-Uncle-Ho's Ancestors' and that he had heard that the NVA Division that was heading down the H0-Chi-Minh Trail was diverted away at the last minute. He and the village attribute that diversion to you because of your respect for the villagers and for their ancestors. I, personally, don't think you had one thing to do with that but that is what they believe. What do you think about that, Private?"

"I would like to go home to Kansas now, Sir, my job here is complete." And with that, Darjeeling arose and shook the hand of Mr. Tranh and bowed deeply toward him. After that he turned and saluted Lt. Col. Henry Lipard, turned on his heel and left. Guru was sitting at the desk out front and noticed Darjeeling wiping the tears off of his face.