Battle Lines

Chapter 1

The pictures flickered across the muted television. Black and white images of young men, boys actually, grimy and weary and emotionally spent. Each face etched with solemn acceptance and eyes that reflected the horrors they had seen and the world in which they now lived. Some seated and smoking, some trying to rest and others just staring out at nothing. A few had bandages around their head, face or limb while others had stripped to their waists and scars from previous wounds were evident.

Sheila sat transfixed on her bed with a shirt half-folded on her lap. She had tried not to stare at each soldier, had tried not to find Alan in their midst. This was not his company, and from the last she heard, he was no where near where this news crew was. But she could not help but strain her eyes to try to catch a glimpse of him. She shook her head and finished folding the shirt, then placed it in the suitcase along with the others. We'll be together in just a few days; he'll be safe with me then. Sheila was surprised to find her eyes had misted up and felt a tear travel down her cheek. I had promised myself I wouldn't do this. Alan needs me to be strong and I can't let him down.

She glanced at her hand where the engagement ring encircled her finger. By all accounts, not a very big diamond, but to her, it meant the world. Alan had surprised her last fall by getting leave for a few days and by presenting her with this ring. It wasn't like they hadn't talked about getting engaged but originally they were going to wait until his tour of duty was over. Her parents liked Alan, but Sheila knew they felt that formalizing their engagement wasn't the wisest thing. Although they had never openly opposed the idea, the worried look in her mother's eyes told Sheila what they were really thinking.

Sheila went over to her bureau, opened her underwear drawer and searched the bottom and back for the pink plastic box. She glanced guiltily toward the door, half expecting her mother to burst in at any moment, although she knew her mother never invaded her privacy without knocking. She had been on 'the pill' for several years now, ever since she and Alan had decided they were meant for each other and that they wanted to take their relationship to the next level. A wonderful level. Sheila mused to herself.

"Sheila! Carol is here." The voice from downstairs startled Sheila out of her remembrances and she quickly stuck the plastic box deep inside one of the suitcase pockets.

She heard steps on the stairs and the door opened. Her best friend since grade school breezed in smelling of musk and incense. "Can't your mom remember to call me Chakra? I changed my name almost two years ago and she still calls me Carol."

Sheila smiled at her friend's indignation. Today she was wearing a long multi-colored caftan, sandals, a fringed purse and a headband that couldn't quite contain her frizzy red hair. If Chakra hadn't taken hippie-dom so seriously, it would almost be comical. "My Mom has known you as Carol for fifteen years; I don't think she'll ever be able to call you anything else."

Chakra dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand and looked at the suitcase and clothes lying on the bed. "So, you're really going to Hawaii to meet Alan, aren't you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I still be going?" Sheila continued folding underwear, then went back to her closet to check out her dresses.

"Because of that." She said pointing at the TV. "How can you be with someone who helps ravage a nation? Innocent women and children are dying there everyday, and he's a part of it."

Sheila twirled around, threw a dress on the bed and turned off the news. "Carol, you know Alan's a medic. He doesn't shoot or kill anyone. He's there to help not only our guys, but also the civilians who get caught in the cross-fire. And besides, he had no choice in the matter." She felt the tears sting her eyes. This was a reoccurring discussion that they've had many times, and neither one could see the other's viewpoint.

"Chakra, remember? If Alan had only gone to Canada with Roger and Kyle, he wouldn't be in the mess he's in now." She picked the dress up from the bed and her caftan billowed out around her as she plopped herself down.

"Well, Chakra, what good would that have done? Where would he have gone? His full scholarship is here; his family has no money, how would he have gone to college? He'd never become a doctor" Talking to Chakra was like talking to a brick wall whenever Vietnam was brought up. "And you know it hasn't been too easy for either Roger or Kyle."

"Yeah, well, you're right with that." Chakra let out a breath and nodded. "You know I like Alan, and he is one of the good guys." She then took on a different path. "There's a meeting down at the Union Hall tonight. We have a guest speaker who's been to Vietnam, someone who knows what's going on. He could give you real insight into what we're trying to do here. We're planning a demonstration and sit-in on the steps of the faculty building on Saturday. No matter what you think, it is up to us to stop this war; no one else is going to do it."

Sheila sighed. "I leave tomorrow morning and this afternoon I have to get the homework assignments for next week. You know, it's not that I don't believe getting out is the right thing, it's just that I don't like the hatred that's directed at all of the men that don't really have a choice in being there or not."

"Okay, Okay. I'll let you finish packing, but please think about our discussions. Things are really starting to heat up, and this is only the beginning. We are the future; and once we get the vote we really will make a difference. There are too many minorities trapped into this war, far more than the rest ...."

"Chakra, please. Let's not get into a big discussion, I really don't have the time. I don't think I can get involved in any of the political things you have gotten yourself into. At least not right now, not while Alan is still over there. I promise I'll call you when I get home."

Chakra drew her mouth into a straight line of disapproval. "Fine. Let me know when you get back and you can tell me how things were." She moved to the door and headed downstairs where Sheila heard her Mom say good-bye and the front door close.

Sheila sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. She knew Chakra was right, she knew this was a horrible war and that far too many of their high school classmates were right in the middle of it. Donny, who had taken Chakra to the senior prom, hadn't enrolled in college and was drafted right after graduation. He came back from Vietnam less than a year later, face disfigured by shrapnel, bitter and reclusive. Then one night he got drunk, went out and wrapped his car around a tree. No one could say for sure whether it was an accident or suicide but either way, it shouldn't have happened. Sheila had always felt that this was the one thing that had cemented Chakra's stand on The War and why she devoted herself to The Cause.

And Alan shouldn't be there either, it just wasn't fair. Having to drop out of pre-med because he came down with mono, neither one of them had thought they'd call him up so fast. But they had, and before they knew it, he was in boot camp, then sent overseas; this was something that happened to others, not her Alan.

Sheila shook her head and worried. It had been almost a year since she'd seen Alan, and although he still wrote fairly regularly, the tone and subject had been changing. In the beginning he had written general things about Vietnam and the men he served with, but mostly he wrote about plans for when he got out. Plans that were for both of them and the studies he would pick up again. Sheila would graduate next spring and he would be home later that year. She'd find a teaching job, they'd get married and Alan would return to pre-med classes. He wrote about his love and devotion to Sheila and how he couldn't wait to be with her again.

But that was in the beginning. Now his letters were brief and Alan wrote mainly about his day-to-day routine, or the hellish weather. Sometimes his letters would be peppered with a few names of those men in his platoon, but nothing ever personal or informative. Sheila had begun to doubt Alan's was really in love with her anymore. She had been elated when Alan had written asking her to meet him in Hawaii. He had gotten some leave time and would arrange the ticket for her. That had to prove that everything was still okay. Right?