Some Call it Murder

The CH-46 shuddered occasionally as twenty-millimeter anti-aircraft rounds spun through the fuselage. The chopper was starting its downward spiral toward the hot LZ. So far, no one had bought it on the trip down. Carl knew, though, that it wouldn't be too long before some of that hot metal would find somebody to call home. Carl just sat there with the stock of the M-60 that the Corps had issued him hugged tight into his right shoulder. A selfish thought crossed his mind. When the hot metal found someone, he hoped it wouldn't be him.

"Anderson!"

Carl looked out and down the line of the troops. The Gunny, a tall, skinny skeleton of a man with a too thin mustache, was leaning out in the aisle, smiling back at him.

"What made you come back? Did ya miss us?"

The gunny laughed, jabbed his elbow into the lieutenant's ribs, and slapped his own leg with his right hand. Carl just shook his head at the Gunny and leaned back against the chopper bulkhead.

"Anderson's one of the college boy's that volunteered to come over here, L.Tee," the Gunny told the air sick lieutenant. "He's never much liked these gook killin' missions."

The Gunny laughed again. He then leaned out to where he could see Carl from where he was sitting.

"Anderson! You thought you were going home after that last mission, didn't ya?"

Carl just sat staring at the bulkhead across from him. Yes, he had thought he was going home. Everyone that had carried him back to the chopper that day had thought he was going home. But, no such luck.

The corpsmen, the nurses, and the doctors back at that field hospital had cleared off all the blood and dirt from his torn body. All they found was shrapnel in both legs, three cracked ribs, a broken wrist and two broken fingers. Oh, he had a concussion to boot, but that still wasn't enough to get him sent home. They'd patched him up and sent him to the hospital in Saigon where six weeks later they'd packed him up and sent him back out to his unit.

That's why he was sitting in this chopper headed into this new hot landing zone. That's why he was taking abuse from the Gunny again.

"Don't let him get to ya, Anderson." The short marine across the aisle said smiling. "He's just showin' off for the new L.Tee."

Carl smiled back. "You're right. He's just jealous that he didn't get that close to goin' home."

The marine laughed. He leaned forward, looking at Carl.

"Yea, that's possible." He turned toward the lieutenant. "That's what it is, isn't it, L.Tee? The gunny's mad 'cause he didn't get as close to home as Anderson here did."

The lieutenant leaned forward a little. He smiled slightly as he looked at the two Marines.

"Fuck off, Stockington." The gunny glared across at the marine.

"Come on, Gunny. What's the matter?" Stockington leaned back and smiled at Carl. "Can't take what you dish out?"

The Gunny leaned forward and started to say something in response. The lieutenant reached forward and put his hand on the gunny's shoulder.

"Leave 'em alone, Gunny. Let it go."

Gunny turned and looked at the lieutenant. The lieutenant smiled slightly and shook his head. Gunny looked back over at Carl and Stockington. Glaring, but saying nothing, he leaned back.

Carl leaned forward, looked quickly at the gunny and the lieutenant, and then over at Stockington.

"You're not making yourself one of Gunny's favorite people, Stockington."

"Life's a bitch, ain't it, Anderson." Stockington smiled and looked out the gunport. "How much longer 'fore we hit do you think?"

Carl looked out the gunport on his side of the helicopter. Slowly, he shook his head.

"Shouldn't be too much longer." He looked back across at Stockington. "How long you been in country?"

"Left the real world just two months ago. Joined the unit right after you got hit." Stockington laughed slightly. "Heard quite a bit 'bout you getting hit. What happened? You piss off a nurse? From what I heard, you should have gone home."

Carl shrugged. "No, I think it was some asshole doctor. That night with his nurse sure was worth it, though."

Stockington choked back a laugh. Carl smiled.

"You're full of shit, Anderson. There ain't nothin' worth comin' back to this hellhole for. I don't care if she could suck the chrome off a brand new '65 Mustang convertible, I wouldn't stay in country for nobody."

Carl laughed. "You're probably right."

"You assholes can it. We're gonna be gettin' off this joyride in a few minutes." The gunny was standing up in the center of the chopper. The lieutenant had moved up to talk to the pilot.

"Anderson, let's see if you can stay with the unit for a little while this time. OK?"

"Right, gunny." Carl leaned back against the bulkhead and smiled across at Stockington who smiled back giving Carl the thumbs up signal.

Gunny held on to a strap hanging from the top of the chopper while he watched the lieutenant. Finally, the lieutenant turned and nodded to him.

"Alright, lads, we're going in. Lock and load," the gunny yelled to be heard over the roar of the chopper.

Carl reached forward and locked a belt of the 7.62 millimeter ammunition into place on the M-60. As he finished he noticed Stockington holding several of the shotgun-like rounds that went to the M-79 grenade launcher in his hand. Stockington looked over at him and smiled.

"Which ammo for the blooper do you think I ought to start with, Anderson? The slugs, the bumble-bees, or the grenades?"

Carl thought for a second as he turned and looked around at the rest of the Marines on the chopper. They were finishing up with their weapons and checking the rest of their equipment.

"Me? I think I'd like to know that I had some heavy support out of my blooper man if I were one of these guys. I'd go with the grenades."

Stockington laughed. Quickly he shoved one of the explosive rounds into the chamber of the M-79.

"I think you're right." He put the other rounds back in his ammunition bag.

The chopper began the final descent toward the landing zone. Gunny walked between the two rows of Marines holding to the overhead as he walked.

"Alright, lads. When we touch ground I want first squad out and into defensive positions to cover the rest of us. Second and third squads, I want you to leap-frog for that tree line off to the south as soon as the chopper is empty. You cover first squad then till they join you. We need to move southeast to a small village about a click and a quarter away and clear all the VC out of it. Then, we get back here for extraction. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Gunny!" roared the reply from the Marines in the chopper.

Carl glanced back through the small viewport at the approaching open meadow below the chopper. Small puffs of smoke were appearing from the tree lines.

"Let's go men. On your feet!" yelled Gunny.

Carl stood up and grabbed the bar hanging from the top of the chopper. All the Marines were standing up and facing toward the rear of the chopper. Stockington had stood up also and, smiling, leaned over toward Carl.

"You make sure you cover us good after you get to that tree line."

Carl laughed. "Sure thing. You just make sure that we get to that tree line!"

Suddenly, from behind them came the sound of ripping metal. As Carl turned to look he heard the gurgling sound of a damaged human body as a scream tried to emerge from the throat. Through the red smoke Carl could see the form of the Gunny standing near the pilot's cockpit. The lieutenant was lying against the bulkhead of the cockpit, his right side, a black and bleeding mess. The pilot was dead, his head gone, the blood spurting regularly from his neck. The co-pilot, stunned, continued the descent toward the landing zone erratically.

"Corpsman!" Gunny yelled. The corpsman began moving through the lines of Marines toward the cockpit.

"I'm gettin' us out of here!" the co-pilot cried.

"You get us down there and unloaded! Then you can leave! You understand me?" yelled Gunny.

The lieutenant had started to scream by now. The rest of the Marines were moving around trying to hold on as the chopper swerved first this way and then that as the co-pilot tried to regain control.

"You're going to be alright, Sir. This is your ticket home." The corpsman tried to quiet the lieutenant.

"It hurts!" screamed the lieutenant.

"You men hold on!" Gunny yelled back over his shoulder. "Shut him up!" he continued quietly to the corpsman.

Carl looked through the smoke. The chopper was almost down to the ground.

"Get us on the ground! Open the back hatch!" Gunny yelled at the surviving crew of the chopper.

The rear hatch began opening down and Carl could see the tall grass blown flat. The speeding rotorblades of the helicopter caused tornado-force winds around the field.

"Alright first squad, it's party time." Stockington yelled over the chaos in the chopper. "I'll see you at the tree line," he smiled at Carl.

"Like I said before, you just make sure I make it to that damn tree line." Carl laughed back at him as the Marines began to surge forward toward the open hatch.

"Let's go Marines! What's the matter? You wanna live forever?" Gunny yelled those cliched lines that every non-commissioned officer in the Marine Corps has yelled since World War I. "Let's kick some ass!"

The first squad spilled out of the chopper into the tall grass. In what seemed like slow motion, Carl watched what was going on around him as he came off the chopper with second and third squad. The Marines began the long run for the tree line.

As he ran through the smoke of the firefight, he could see Stockington drop to one knee and fire the blooper toward the tree line. He felt the propwash from the helicopter as the last few Marines came off and the chopper lifted off. The sounds of the battle seemed muffled under the roar of his own heartbeat and breathing as he ran forward.

Off in the distant tree line two black-pajama-clad Viet Cong raised their weapons toward the approaching horde of Marines. It took what felt like an eternity to Carl to raise the M-60 toward them. He pulled the trigger on the weapon. Although he knew in his mind that the weapon was on full automatic, it seemed as if he could see every round as it left the muzzle.

The water in the rice paddy, which bordered the tree line, splashed as his combat boot clad feet entered its edge. He noticed other splashes around him from other Marines. He knew that some of the splashes were from the tiny pieces of hot metal that the VC were sending toward them.

In front of him, he could see his terribly slow rounds finally tear into one of the two black pajama clad creatures that were trying to kill him. He felt the excitement and exhilaration that came with killing as he watched. The man's small body flew back as the big 7.62 rounds ripped and tore through his flesh.

Off to his left, a Marine ran away from his legs and went head first into the rice paddy as a VC machine gun cut his legs off at the knees. Carl felt it more than saw it.

"Corpsman!" Carl heard himself scream as he kept trudging forward toward the tree line.

Suddenly, he was in the tree line throwing himself down behind a fallen tree. The world was back to normal speed and Carl could see the corpsman making his way toward the legless Marine.

"Come on, you assholes. Give first squad some cover fire so they can get up here with the rest of us." The Gunny had made it and was standing up directing second and third squad's fire toward the enemy positions. Enemy fire seemed to dance around him as he pointed first at this enemy position and then that.

Carl looked back over his shoulder toward first squad. He could see Stockington helping a wounded Marine through the rice paddy toward the tree line. Others were running, firing their weapons as they sloshed through the knee-deep water.

"You want to give'em some covering fire? Or, do you think the Marine Corps gave you that M-60 as a conversation piece so you could talk the gooks to death?" Carl jerked his head around to find the gunny kneeling next to him. "Anderson, first squad would really appreciate it if you'd get your head out of your ass and fire that son-of-a-bitch at Charlie instead of sittin' here watchen' them get their asses shot off."

Carl pulled the weapon up to his shoulder and began firing short bursts at the escaping Viet Cong. His face burned red with anger as the gunny continued berating him.

"Gee thanks, Anderson. I'm sure that Smith'll have a lot of time to think about how considerate you've been. He's gonna be sitting in some hospital state-side looking at where his legs used to be for a long time."

As quickly as he had come, the gunny left. Carl continued to fire at the retreating Viet Cong. Behind him, Carl could hear the members of first squad dropping to the ground trying to catch their breath. One dropped down beside him as he saw his rounds hit one of the black-clad figures and throw the VC into a tree.

"Not bad shooting there, Anderson." Carl turned to find Stockington laying with his back against the log the two of them were hiding behind. "Glad you're on my side."

"It's good to know that somebody appreciates me being on their side." Carl said angrily as he let fly another short burst from the sixty.

"Hold your fire. Hold your fire." Gunny was standing over with the squad leaders. "Quit wasting ammunition, Anderson. You won't hit nothin' when you've got the opportunity."

"Keep your cool." Stockington whispered. "Keep your cool!"

"Third squad, I need two men to stay here with the wounded 'til we get back." Gunny turned to look at Carl. "Anderson, one of them can't be you."

Turning to look at Stockington, Carl said, "How about the other one? Can that be me, Gunny?"

"Fuck you, Anderson." Gunny turned back to face the rest of the platoon as Stockington smiled and gave the thumbs up to Carl. "The rest of us are going to haul ass down to that village, clear it, and the get the hell back here for the pick-up. Third squad, you lead out. Anderson, get your useless ass out there on point. Let's move!"

As they were getting up, Stockington reached over and slapped Carl on the helmet. "Ain't it nice to be loved?"

"I heard that, Stockington." Gunny stared down at them from the little knoll. "You evidently like Anderson enough to be his cornhole buddy so you join him on point. Move!"

Carl shook his head as he headed toward the front of the squad.

Stockington followed close behind.

"I sometimes question your intelligence, Stockington. How do you like being loved?"

"Oh, I don't know. Up here I've got the pleasure of your company. I don't have to smell the rest of them guys, either. And seeing as how you've got two purple hearts already and ain't bought the farm, maybe I'm better off up here with you than back there."

"I wouldn't bet on it too much if I were you."

"You two wanna shut it up. You want Charlie to know we're coming? Move it out!" Gunny yelled from back with the squad.

Through the brush Carl could see the village just ahead of them. Stockington had gone back to the platoon to let them know about the gun emplacements near the edge of the village. Carl had suggested that the platoon send another fireteam back with Stockington to provide fire support on the gun emplacements. The rest of the platoon would than attack from behind the positions.

Carl watched as one of the young Vietnamese girls carried two buckets of water from the well at the edge of the village back to her thatch hut. She couldn't have been much over fifteen or sixteen but was carrying a young baby in the pack on her back. Off to the edge of one of the rice paddies, Carl could see five or six Vietnamese gathering the rice. Other than the two gun emplacements that edged the village, Carl couldn't spot any other weapons. In the village were about a dozen small children playing with sticks.

Behind him, Carl heard something moving. Turning slowly, he watched as Stockington and the three members of his fireteam moved as quietly as possible through the brush. While the rest of the fireteam moved up on line with Carl, Stockington crawled over next to him and looked over at the village.

"Did ya miss me?" grinned Stockington.

"Are you kidding? I was hopin' you'd get lost," Carl grinned as he started making up the story. "Those little gook bitches over there have been comin' over and givin' me blow-jobs since you left. They won't come back now. They told me how you like ass fuckin'."

"Yea, I do. Give me any more shit and I'm gonna fuck yours. Did you spot anything else?"

"I'm scared." Carl pretended to shudder. "You been hangin' around Gunny way too much if all you want to do is fuck my ass." Carl smiled and then got back to business. "There's three VC in each emplacement. I haven't seen any others carrying weapons but you know that they probably have their weapons within easy reach."

"Yea. We spotted a fresh blood trail back a little ways. It must've come from our little gunfight a while ago."

Carl looked seriously over at Stockington.

"Does Gunny figure they're expectin' us?"

"Yea. And he liked your idea so much that he decided it was his own. He wants us to lay down a base of fire and get Charlie to pay a lot of attention to us. After Charlie decides he wants to come up here and fuck us real good, Gunny and the rest of the platoon are going to sweep the village, real sweet. When Charlie turns to protect Mama-san, it's gonna be our turn to fuck Papa-san."

Carl looked over at him and then back at the children in the village. "You told him about the kids, didn't you?"

Stockington frowned over at him and shook his head. "Sure, but you know as well as I do that Gunny don't care how old they are when he's takin' a body count." He turned and checked with the three other Marines from the fireteam. All three nodded and gave him the thumbs up signal. Stockington turned back to Carl. "Well, it's time to rock-and-roll. You ready?"

Carl picked up the stock of the M-60, placed it tightly in to his shoulder. He carefully aimed the big machine gun at the VC in one of the gun emplacements. "Yea. I'm ready."

Stockington aimed the blooper at the village. Suddenly the stillness of the afternoon ended with the unique sound of the blooper firing. Stockington's scratchy voice followed. "Let's kick ass, Marines!"

Carl pulled the trigger on the M-60 letting fly a stream of metal tips at the nearest gun emplacement. The hut behind the gun emplacement exploded as Stockington's blooper shell fell into it. The other three Marines opened up with their M-16's. The children in the village began running for cover.

From the village a line of tracers reached out and licked at Carl and Stockington and the other Marines. Stockington fired his blooper again at the emplacement. Carl continued to send quick, short bursts of fire into the gun emplacement. Smiling with satisfaction, Carl watched one of the small figures in the emplacement was picked up by the impact of a group of rounds and thrown across the embankment.

One of the Marines off to his right slumped over and quit firing as blood oozed from under his helmet near the front. Carl looked over in the direction that the rounds must have come from that hit the Marine. The young Vietnamese girl with the baby strapped to her back was running back toward one of the gun emplacements. She was carrying an AK-47. Stockington placed one of the grenade shells from the blooper in the center of the gun emplacement just before the girl got to it. She turned and ran in another direction.

From the other side of the village Carl could hear the platoon open up on the VC and the villagers that were trying to escape in that direction. Carl watched as the young girl with the baby herded a group of the children into one of the huts. Carl placed another burst from the M-60 at the other gun emplacement while Stockington reloaded and fired another explosive round at it.

As the fortification exploded, Stockington stood up and waved at the survivors of the fireteam. "Come on! Let's not give Gunny the pleasure of finding us sittin' here on our asses waiting on him."

Carl and the two remaining Marines crawled out of their positions and began firing at the village as they advanced. The four of them spread out on line as they walked. Other than occasional sporadic fire coming from some of the huts, the four Marines managed to make it to the gun emplacements without too much of a problem.

"Anderson, you take charge and see how many supplies Charlie had stored here. I'm going to find Gunny and let him know this side of the village is secure."

"Good idea." Carl nodded and then waved to the other two Marines to follow him.

Stockington turned and headed between the huts in the direction the rest of the platoon should be.

Carl heard the shot and turned to see Stockington standing still in the center of the village. On his back a slowly enlarging patch of red stained the green camouflage shirt.

"Stockington!" Carl screamed.

Stockington slowly turned to look at Carl. He started to reply but all that came out of his mouth was red foam.

At the entrance of one of the huts stood the young girl with the baby. In her hands she still held the AK-47 she had just used to shoot Stockington in the back. Carl watched as she took aim again on Stockington's chest. He raised the M-60 to his hip and turned it toward the girl. As he pulled the trigger, he watched as the stream of shells ripped across the short distance leaving a diagonal red-dotted line across her chest.

As she fell, Carl turned back to look at Stockington. Stockington's eyes glazed as he slowly dropped toward the ground. Carl ran toward him and knelt at his side.

"Stockington!"

The wounded friend that Carl hadn't even known two hours before turned toward the sound of Carl's voice. The red foam spewed forth from his mouth as he fell forward into Carl's arms and died.

"No!" Carl screamed.

At the entrance to the hut, positioned over the bodies of the young girl and her baby, stood the Gunny. He looked inside the hut where the Vietnamese children huddled together. He turned back and looked at Anderson crying, holding Stockington's dead body. He heard a whimper from beneath him and watched as the baby on the girl's back moved, trying to get out of the backpack. Gunny pumped a shell into the twelve-gauge shotgun he carried and swung the barrel down to aim at the baby's ear. Slowly he squeezed the trigger.

Carl jerked up at the shotgun's report and looked at the Marine gunnery sergeant.

Gunny pulled the shotgun back up and pumped it again. The Vietnamese children inside the hut huddled together tightly. Gunny's finger tightened on the trigger as he began to squeeze.

Suddenly Carl realized what was happening.

"No!" Carl screamed for the second time.

The shotgun blasts echoed through the village.