Orders: A Vietnam Story

Part 2 "Cope"

After the death of Benny and my injury, I had been sent back to the U.S.A. on a short term leave. I walked with crutches, but worked everyday to regain my strength. Two weeks into my leave was Benny's funeral.

I hobbled along the sidewalk to the graveyard where Benny would be buried. Many people stood outside the graveyard spitting at me, and all the others in our group who had been put on leave. They held signs and cursed at us.

Kyle, a Private who had joined our ranks just before the firefight, threatens a protestor with a large rock he had picked up.

Rain drizzled on us as the ceremony took place. A white cross stood in front of where Benny would be buried. I stood up to speak, but as I arrived at the podium, I found myself at a loss for words. My ears began to ring again like they did after the grenade, and my knees grew weak.

After the ceremony, Kyle, Steve, Tanner, and I went out to the bar, ignoring the protestors as we walked along the sidewalk in a silent line. Kyle turns and picks up the rock again, bashing it against a protestors jaw.

I run over to him, pulling him off of the protestor as he continues to bring the rock down on his jaw. The protestor rolls over, his jaw slack and broken and blood dripped from his mouth. Kyle's eyes were filled with rage and I pulled him back even further, turning him around and pushing him down the sidewalk.

"You can't just hit a guy with a rock!" Yells Tanner.

"Really? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I just did!" Screams Kyle, leaning in closer to Tanner.

"Guys, knock it off! What would Benny think of us?" says Steve.

We all grow silent. Those words hung in the air, so thick and heavy you could cut them with a knife. What would he think of us? Kyle sits on the curb, and we all join him, our head in our hands. Without Benny, we were at a loss.

Benny Turner was a family man. He had a beautiful wife and three kids; Joline, Stephanie, and Robert. He lived in Chicago, like me, and though we had never met before, it was good to know someone grew up in the same way I did. He was drafted two years ago, stripped of his family and shipped to Vietnam. He had this look about him. It was like he was the father of our group. The glue that held the scaffolds together.

Now, he was gone.

"Guys, we should go pay respects to the wife," says Steve.

"Agreed," says Tanner.

We stood up and moved towards Benny's address. Standing on the porch in the rain, we silently waited for one of us to knock. Finally, I raised enough courage and slam my fist into the door, scratching the white off of the wood in small places.

"Come in," came a sobbing voice from inside.

I opened the door and we walked in. Mrs. Turner sat on the couch, in the arms of a man none of us recognized. Instant shock and anger fills my veins. She's moved on this quick?

"Who's this?" Asks Kyle, pulling up his sleeves.

"This is Mr. Uy, a friend of mine from work," she answers.

"Oh yeah, "friend" right?" asks Steve.

"Steve let's not jump to conclusions," I say.

"She's sleepin' with a Cong!" Yells Kyle.

Kyle charges at Mr. Uy. I grab him by the chest, pulling him back.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't snap your neck!" Yelled Kyle.

"Kyle, calm down!" I yelled.

Mrs. Turner stood, holding herself in fear.

I pulled back Kyle, but I lost my grip. I looked to Steve and Tanner, but they had the same angry look in their eyes. I felt anger too.

"Benny went and fought for our country and your sleeping with the enemy, huh?" yelled Steve.

I yanked Kyle back against the wall and turned my attention to Steve. I yanked him back as well, slamming him into a picture of Benny and his family. It fell to the floor, shattering.

I slammed Steve again, grabbing him by the throat. Lost in my rage, I threw him down to the floor after hitting him in the stomach. The testosterone levels matched the intensity of the situation.

I tugged Tanner out the door, throwing a green vase at the wall just before leaving.

We just needed time to heal. Time to cope.