Billy Palmer by Ronald Zastre
Manny found a small nitch near the crest of the hill, a spot two feet square, under a large spreading tree. Large rocks standing high behind him formed the top of the hill. From there he could see down the slope to the front, but his sides and rear were protected by the rocks.
Manny made himself comfortable in the rocks, the cold, damp night air surrounding him.
What if they were coming for me here, what could I do? How could I save myself?
“What do I know?” he said out loud.
Nothing you smuck. You’re a retail exec, not a lot of experience with anything that counts, now. You’re damn lucky you live in such a placid environment, otherwise you would be toast.”
Manny huddled under the tree, his knees pulled up tight to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, looking out into the moonlight, thinking. I wonder if my bow would be any good here? I could probably get a couple of them. Is that what a soldier thinks? I’m not going to make it, so what the hell, I’m going to take as many as I can with me? Is that what being brave is all about? Is that what makes a person charge certain death, being angry about being there? What causes the line to be crossed from scared to angry. I wonder if I would handle it or not?”
Manny contemplated the problem and fantasied about making his stand until he got cold and returned to his car.
Chapter 14
“Hello Manny, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Mark Tainer said, walking into the reception area of his office.
“I hope I’m not infringing on you,” Manny said defensively, as he rose up to greet the man, “but I’m headed home from Florida and I decided to swing by here to see if maybe you had just a little time?”
“Got a little this morning, what’s on your mind?” Tainer said, heading into his office, Manny following.
“I met with the Lieutenant of that platoon you and Billy saved.”
“All in a day’s work Manny, have a seat. What did he have to say?”
“He hasn’t called you, I gave him your number?”
“I’ve got a pile of messages here on my desk, what was his name?”
“Dan Walsh.”
“Walsh. . .let me see, yeah, here it is. I’ll try to get back to him later on this week, but right now I’m swamped.”
“Did you get the book I overnighted, the one Billy wrote, Timtown?”
“Yeah I did,” Tainer hesitated, apparently his mind was on something else, “but to tell you the truth, I haven’t gotten to it yet. I sent it to one of my readers, I should hear back after the holidays.”
“I thought you would look at it?”
“Oh, I will, but I get someone else to clean it up first.”
“Ah, you know, my wife did that already.”
“I mean cleaned up by a professional. I get so strapped for time, I can’t get involved in editing. The better it gets to my desk, the more apt I am to give it the attention it deserves. I’m envious of Billy for finding the time, somewhere, to write anything. I think I’ve got some great stories, but I don’t have the time to put them down. Can you imagine that?”
“Oh, it’s just that my wife is so thrilled about it, she just can’t wait to hear back from you.”
Manny was a little miffed about the professional remark because it was a personal affront to Cassey who he considered intellectually superior to most anybody, but thought better of mentioning it.
“When you do get around to it, just call her okay? I’ve been taking a lot of time on this thing with Billy, and now Cassey is getting involved, and the book is her end of the deal.”
“I understand Manny, as soon as I can get to it, I will call her.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. Look, I know you’re busy, so I’ll get going. I just wanted to say thanks, the talk with Lieutenant Walsh was eye opening. You and Billy were really heroes and you certainly deserved the medals. I’m curious though, who was doing the shooting from the hill, you or Billy?”
“It was me from the position up on the hill. I don’t know what happened to Billy. We saw what was going down, and Billy took off, down the hill, toward the ambush. He must have gotten in close, I’m sure. After the choppers left, it took him half an hour to reload all the magazines he had emptied.”
“Wow, I can’t even imagine something so intense. How did you keep from crapping in your pants?”
“Who said I didn’t?” Tainer smiled.
Manny just nodded, appreciating the admission. “I got to the Wall,” he added.
“What did you think?”
“It was devastating after I figured it all out. Anyone that has any doubts about that war, needs to go through the experience.”
“What did it tell you?”
“How utterly ridiculous it was to stay there and just keep on throwing away all those lives, for nothing. How the hell could something like that happen?”
“Like I told you before, Vietnam was a research and development policy that was okay, except the costs were way to high and no one knew when to end it. Vietnam was an engineer’s delight, look at what they learned about helicopters. The latest generation of them are a direct yield of what they learned in that war.”
“Shit, can’t they find another way to test their theories?”
“If you’ve got questions about how well something is going to work, or if it will at all, there’s no substitute for the real thing. They’re still doing it. Look at Iraq and Afghanistan. The military needs to test. No better place than to find a dictator to kick around now and then, keeps everybody sharp. Vietnam taught us that. Before you send in the troops, demoralize the opposition. When the first of your troops arrive, you want the enemy to be looking forward to having them there, to surrender to, not to fight.”
“I guess.”
“The present day special forces operational manuals were written back in Vietnam. We were operating independently and learning as we went. What we passed on to them and what they have learned in addition make them extremely proficient. They owe a lot to a guy like Billy, an independent thinker like he was. There were others too. Did I tell you about O’Brien yet?”
“No.”
“Millard O’Brien, Aka Bat O’Brien, Outhouse Junction, Tennessee.”
“Outhouse?” Manny laughed.
“Yeah, that’s what Bat claimed. He said he lived where nobody had any maps yet. I could believe it as back woods as he was. He was skinny, about five foot four, a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Homely as hell, red hair, freckles, big ass ears that stuck straight out to the side, that’s where he got the moniker Bat. Bat was the result of cousins with cousins, going way back, I’m sure, but, Bat O’Brien could hit a fly at a hundred yards. We were all good shots, but he was way beyond us. He was the ultimate hunter. Sometimes he’d stay out for three weeks, living on the land. He used to wear the uniforms of the guys he bagged.”
“That’s creepy!” Manny said.
“That was Bat all right. He wouldn’t swear either, claimed ‘God don’t like cussin!’ I asked him about his lust for killing one time, and he told me he was just doing God’s work, cleansing the Kingdom of them heathens.”
“It got to the point that the other guys didn’t want to go out with him, he’d stay too long, so he went by himself. Bat was in country way before we were. Billy went out with him a couple of times when we first got there, ‘To learn the ropes,’ he said. After we had been there, like eight months, Bat never came back this one time, but I find it hard to believe the VC got him. I think he’s still out there to tell you the truth. Anyway, whenever he was in the rear this Major from intelligence would come down immediately to see Bat. This Major had a standing request to be called whenever Bat showed up, and he would sit and listen to Bat for hours, taking all these notes.”
“You ever wonder who killed Kennedy?” Tainer continued.
“JFK or RFK?”
“John, who really shot him?”
“I guess Oswald?”
“According to the Warren Commission?” Mark
“That’s what we were told.”
“Ah, duped, just like it was your duty as an American.”
“I’ve heard other theories, you can shed some light on this?”
“When we got to sniper school they said they were going to teach us to shoot like Lee Harvey Oswald. It was the first time I ever thought about what really happened to Kennedy, who actually did the shooting. The instructors were being facetious of course. It would have been impossible for Oswald to have fired so fast and so accurate with the rifle they found. They were trying to impress upon us that the Kennedy assassination was a conspiracy.”
“No shit, Oswald really didn’t do it?”
“Not all by himself he didn’t. Of course the truth would have really shook the government up, at that time. Kennedy wanted to stay out of Vietnam, others didn’t. I can still remember that day, but it wasn’t until sniper school that I started to question policies. You wouldn’t believe how stupid the system can get.”
“I can remember the time,” Tainer continued, “we got this asshole Sergeant in our unit. Sergeant Schnelling, what a rube, a real lifer. I don’t know how the hell we ended up with him, but we did. He was an admin clown and I guess they decided that we needed to keep some records and so there he was. I think he had been in the Crotch like 18 years, and already a Sergeant, a real bozo. He is there like two days and already we couldn’t stand him. Billy and I were just Corporals at the time, so he outranked us and he immediately started to push his weight around. He had it to, big fuckin beer belly, smoked like a chimney, lived for coffee and smokes.”
“So anyway here comes Sergeant Dildo, as Billy called him, and he is all spit and polish. We’ve got guys living in this hooch when we’re in base camp, out of the field. We spend all this time out and clean uniforms and polished boots are not our priority, considering that out in the field we tried to blend in, which means looking ratty as hell. Old Sergeant Suck Up goes to the Head Quarters Company Commander and complains that the S-2 bunch, Scout-snipers, that’s us, are a disgrace and he intends to do something about it. The Company Commander comes over to our hooch to check us out. Billy explains that the time we spent in the rear is not for spit and polish, but for training the new guys and things like that. This Major knows about us and kind of agrees. We don’t stand company formations because not our ratty asses tarnish the clean and disciplined ranks, but Schnelling demands that we be present for the company inspection that afternoon.”
“So here we are, standing at attention, dirty as shit, no new uniforms or anything like that, and some flunky officer wanting us to present arms. Hell, I couldn’t even remember how it went. Billy never did come to attention. He’s standing there, leaning on his M-16 and when this officer gets to him, Billy hands the officer the rifle, butt first. This is a green Lewy and he doesn’t know what to do and just gives Billy the M-16 back and goes to the next guy.”
“Here’s all these office weenies looking like they’re ready to march in a parade and at one end, eight guys looking like skid row bums. We made no attempt whatsoever to clean up. We never wore covers, hats, our longer shaggy hair blended in better in the bush and we seldom shaved.”
“Schnelling didn’t say anything to us before the inspection. I guess he figured that we’re going to catch shit for the way we looked. So, Sergeant Dildo is standing there prim and proper, with a smirk on his face when the inspecting officer gets to him. Old Sarg does a beautiful present arms, the lieutenant snaps the M-16 crisply from him, pulls the bolt actuator back and it just falls back loose. Billy had taken the bolt out of the idiot’s rifle and closed the dust cover. So here’s Sergeant Schnelling with this god awful look on his face, and Billy, myself and a couple of the other guys laying in the dust holding our guts, laughing like crazy. The inspection kind of fell apart at that point.”
“So, the company commander, this Major called us into his office. We didn’t know what to expect, but this Major was trying to be stern, to preserve discipline he said, but you could tell the whole time he was close to busting out laughing.”
“Schnelling, the idiot that he was, decides that he needs to get some combat time. It looks good on your record for promotions. He plans this little patrol and gets the okay from the Company Commander. Billy goes to the Major and tries to talk him out of letting Schnelling go into the field, but the Major says that it isn’t a long one, just out to a couple of villages and then back, so what can go wrong? Billy wasn’t too happy, but we were stuck. Schnelling plans this little foray and he keeps it short because I know he’s scared. It’s about two clicks out and then right back. We’re not too worried about the VC, we know these two villages and they’re too close to the fire base for anything but a couple of local VC.”
“We take two shooters, knowing the sniper rifles will make anyone out there think twice about taking a shot at us. We’ve got a couple of new guys and Billy and I want to familiarize them with what to look for, that sort of thing. We go out to the first village and then turn. Schnelling had made this over lay for the artillery base, with fire coordinates preset. He actually did a good job. So the point, this guy Lujak, with one of the new guys comes to the trail running off to the right. He sees that the villagers have been walking down off the trail and he informs the new guy, can’t remember his name, that the trail is more than likely booby trapped. Schnelling sees the point go off the trail and starts yelling. If there is any way to get a guy that’s used to quiet and covert, pissed, it’s some fuckin idiot making too much noise. Schnelling won’t settle down about his orders not being followed, and I was worried that Billy might end up shooting him. The C.O. had warned us that if anything happened to Schnelling, he was damn sure going to find out why?”
“I finally got the dumb fuck to shut up by the time Billy came up from the rear to see what the hell the problem was. Schnelling was incensed that the point guys had deviated from his well laid plans. Lujak came back and told us why, so Billy told him to go back up and proceed with caution. Sergeant Dildo starts arguing again, and I can’t believe it. He’s yelling at Billy about how he out ranks him and it’s his patrol so we do what he says. Billy tells him to shut the fuck up, that he’s broadcasting our position. I’m trying to explain to the dumb fuck why we don’t walk down trails that all the locals avoid, and he pulls his forty-five out and starts yelling about court martials and shooting people for disobeying orders. I mean, here were are, seven guys out in the fuckin sticks and this asshole you can hear for miles. At that point, I know Billy’s going to shoot him, I just know it for sure, but Stanton, one of the guys that had been with us for a while, steps in and kicks the Sergeant right in the balls. I mean, lifted him right off the ground. Shut him up and saved his ass!”
“The dumb fuck pressed charges, as soon as we get back. This is some serious shit, disobeying an order in combat. Some asshole from the Judge Advocates Office comes looking for heads to bash. Billy, myself, and Lujak are named in the court-martial. I guess Schnelling was grateful to Stanton and didn’t include him in the charges. We all have to fill out this report. They’ve got MP’s standing over us and everything. Two of the line Company Commanders saved our asses. We had a good record with them and they pointed out the ridiculous actions of the Sergeant to the guy from the JAG. They sent the Sergeant somewhere where he couldn’t cause any more problems, I guess.”
“The Battalion Base Commander, a colonel, said that all the rigmarole with the JAG made him look bad, and that from that point on, we ,the snipers, would be dressed according to the uniform of the day while on his post. The next day, we’re playing football on the parade ground, and this colonel sees us out there, running around in cut off utility shorts, and no shirts, but we had all shaved. He comes rushing over and starts babbling about how we are disobeying a direct order, we are out of uniform. Billy’s talking to him, explaining that it’s ninety-five degrees with ninety percent humidity, and that full uniforms would be pretty silly, especially when the
“The Colonel comes unglued and starts yelling at Billy, dressing him down as a malcontent. Billy doesn’t say anything until this guy finally burns himself out.”
“The next day Billy organizes the football game again, but this time we’re out there in shirts, long pants, boots, the uniform of the day. We were wondering what’s up? We didn’t feel like playing football in the heat dressed like that, but Billy said to just do it, it would be worth it. We knew he was up to something so we went along. The Colonel’s tent and private privy were down at the end of the field. We’re playing football, sweating like pigs and the Colonel comes by and tells us he appreciates our trying to conform, that it’s essential for everyone's moral. That we are all the same here in camp, no one is special.”
“He struts off and goes into his private john. This private privy is about the size of a toilet stall and it’s closed off with canvas. It had this big ass water tank over it for flushing. There was a pull rope attached to a check valve up on the tank to allow only a little water to come out, just enough to flush the toilet. The Colonel goes in and we just keep on playing football. Billy’s got this big smirk on his face, and we haven’t got the slightest inkling why. All of a sudden, we hear this shouting and swearing coming from the Colonels privy and then water coming out of the bottom of the canvas. Next thing we know, the flap flies open and the Colonel, with his pants down around his ankles, comes stumbling out, falling flat on his face in the mud, his white ass sticking up, covered with shit. His orderly rushes up and tries to help him up, but the Colonel is all twisted in his trousers and having a tirade. We figure it was a good time to skedaddle, but Billy said bullshit, we’re playing football and he wasn’t about to miss any of this.”