257 lines
14 KiB
Plaintext
257 lines
14 KiB
Plaintext
|
||
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
|
||
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
|
||
OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
|
||
OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
|
||
OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
|
||
OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
|
||
OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
|
||
OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
|
||
OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
|
||
|
||
|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
|
||
| |
|
||
| There Ain't No Justice |
|
||
| |
|
||
| #21 |
|
||
| |
|
||
|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
|
||
- Above and Beyond -
|
||
by Spartacus
|
||
|
||
(As a rule I don't use disclaimers, but I think I'll make an exception
|
||
for this file.)
|
||
|
||
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real
|
||
persons, places, or circumstances is purely coincidental.
|
||
|
||
|
||
As I woke up this cold December morning, I was for the thousandth
|
||
time greeted by the cold hard staring eye of my accuser. It is ironic
|
||
that an object meant to honor me and bring me pride has instead served
|
||
only to torture me with its mocking gleam, to remind me of what a
|
||
pitiful and despicable being I truly am, a man I would once have been
|
||
ashamed to eat with. This morning I could take it no longer. I felt I
|
||
must come to terms with myself, with what I have done, what I have
|
||
become.
|
||
|
||
I had the nightmare again last night. I sprayed bullets from the
|
||
muzzle of my machine gun at enemies all around me. When I had killed
|
||
them all, I turned over the nearest one and looked at his face. It was
|
||
like looking in a mirror. I inspected a dozen more corpses, and they
|
||
were all ME. I should not have been surprised at this. I have dreamt
|
||
that dream more times than I can count. Yet each time I am surprised
|
||
anew and struck with a nameless horror. Then I looked down at my neck
|
||
and there hung the medal, and from it came the sound of a hideous,
|
||
maniacal laughter. The corpses pulled themselves up, each a broken,
|
||
lifeless copy of myself. They came for me, they tore at me with nails
|
||
and teeth. The pain brought me to wakefulness in a cold sweat.
|
||
|
||
I went back to sleep then, after a few drinks. I slept dreamlessly.
|
||
I never have good dreams anymore. Only the nightmares, or nothing at
|
||
all.
|
||
|
||
I feel the thing watching me from behind. It is making the hair
|
||
stand up on the back of my neck. There, I have moved it from the wall,
|
||
it is lying before me. At least now I can watch it back.
|
||
|
||
It still will not let me forget. I cannot shut out the memory that
|
||
haunts me all my waking hours and half of the night. Those terrible
|
||
months...but that one day, the day I won the medal, was worse than all
|
||
the rest combined.
|
||
|
||
I was a private in the Army, serving in Vietnam. In boot camp they
|
||
had taught me to kill for my country, in theory. When I killed my first
|
||
man I was sick for hours, but I got over it. I was still quite convinced
|
||
that I was doing the right thing, being a good American, repulsing the
|
||
enemies of democracy everywhere, saving more lives than I was
|
||
destroying. I soon was quite contentedly stalking through the jungle,
|
||
blasting away at any Viet Cong I saw or suspected. I gladly followed the
|
||
orders of my superiors. Oh, I was nervous as hell. Fear was my constant
|
||
companion. But it wasn't so bad. I at least believed in what I was
|
||
doing. I knew my duty, and I did it.
|
||
|
||
Of course, at the time, I spent a lot of time thinking to myself
|
||
that war was hell. I didn't know the half of it then. Those were the
|
||
simple times, that part of me still longs for even though I now know
|
||
that everything I then believed was a lie.
|
||
|
||
As time passed I was field promoted to First Lieutenant upon the
|
||
death of a superior officer, and that promotion had been confirmed. I
|
||
took pride then in leading my platoon into battle, though the reality
|
||
was not anything like the ancient image of charging into battle at the
|
||
head of the cavalry. In the modern way, the leader bravely stayed in the
|
||
center, sending his troops ahead of him and using them to guard his rear
|
||
and flanks. Most of my subordinates by that time were draftees. The
|
||
volunteers had either been promoted or killed.
|
||
|
||
Then came my rude awakening. Our company was trying to track down a
|
||
local Viet Cong base. Some of their local leaders were known to be
|
||
hiding in one of three villages. Since we wanted to capture or kill them
|
||
before they could flee, the company split up. My platoon and one other
|
||
were sent to the first possible village. As it was the most likely
|
||
candidate, the Captain came with us.
|
||
|
||
As we approached the village, we were met by about ten young men,
|
||
seemingly unarmed. They blocked our path. One spoke some English. He
|
||
told us that they knew what American soldiers had done to other villages
|
||
and that though they would not attack us, they would not let us pass.
|
||
|
||
The Captain called the other Lieutenant and I over. He said, "We
|
||
don't have time to deal with this. Have the men shoot them."
|
||
|
||
I had trouble believing he would really order us to shoot in cold
|
||
blood. I said one of the worst possible things a soldier can say: "But
|
||
sir..."
|
||
|
||
"No buts! They are to be shot! That's an order!"
|
||
|
||
I gave the order. The men standing straight and tall and quiet
|
||
before us fell like the pack of card soldiers in Wonderland. Men lying
|
||
flat, dying, piled like sticks. We walked among them, picking our steps
|
||
carefully, but I think not one of us passed over without trampling on a
|
||
dying human being.
|
||
|
||
When we reached the village, there was havoc. Mostly the people hid
|
||
in their houses. Some of the men stood outside their houses like
|
||
sentries. The Captain announced he would search every house for the men
|
||
we wanted. He ordered us to get it done, and to shoot anyone who
|
||
violently protested.
|
||
|
||
My platoon was assigned the east half of the village. I told the
|
||
sergeant and he detailed men to search all the homes and the few other
|
||
buildings. There was one home left over. Naturally the Sergeant and I
|
||
decided to search it ourselves.
|
||
|
||
It was a one room dwelling without much in the way of windows. It
|
||
was quite dark inside. As I entered, before my eyes could really adjust
|
||
to the dim light, I saw a figure move toward me. It was swinging
|
||
something at me. I fired, heard the peculiar grunting noise many people
|
||
make when they experience sudden pain. The figure collapsed before me.
|
||
|
||
In seconds my eyes had adjusted. I had shot a child, I saw, a boy
|
||
not more than ten years old. In the stomach. His mother, who had been
|
||
huddled in the corner in fear, rushed to him and she heard his moans of
|
||
pain. His face was twisted in agony. I knew he would die a slow death,
|
||
no one here could take care of him except our medics, and they would
|
||
never treat him. I knew that. I had to do it. What else could I do? I
|
||
shoved the mother roughly away, sending her sprawling on the floor in
|
||
the corner. And I shot him again, this time in the head. It was the only
|
||
thing I could do for him.
|
||
|
||
The woman jumped back to her feet and attacked me, screaming,
|
||
raking my face with her nails. It took the full combined strength of the
|
||
Sergeant and myself to restrain her. She screamed and cried and raged
|
||
with the deep pain of loss, of a tragedy less than half understood. How
|
||
could I explain to her, how could I tell her that it was all in the line
|
||
of duty? I didn't speak her language. She wouldn't have listened anyway,
|
||
or wouldn't have accepted it.
|
||
|
||
Her screams and my shouts for reinforcements brought four men. I
|
||
told them to hold her. I had forgotten my bloodied face until one
|
||
Corporal reminded me. It didn't seem to matter even then, but I went to
|
||
have a medic look at it anyway. There no injuries much more serious than
|
||
mine. And no one had found any Viet Cong hiding among the villagers. My
|
||
mind was elsewhere as my wounds were attended to. I began to wonder if
|
||
we were really in the right.
|
||
|
||
In the evening we left the village. Less than one quarter of an
|
||
hour out of the village, we were met by a Viet Cong ambush, a big one.
|
||
In the battle most of us were killed or mortally wounded before we
|
||
fought them off. I saw my Sergeant's arm blown off by a grenade. I
|
||
watched as the other Lieutenant was blown into bloody gobbets of flesh.
|
||
I saw the Captain be struck by two bullets.
|
||
|
||
But we won. Barely. At last only the wounded Captain, my one-armed
|
||
Sergeant, a medic and myself were left. I was almost miraculously left
|
||
unwounded by the assault. The others were not nearly so lucky. The medic
|
||
was the least damaged of those three. He only had a superficial flesh
|
||
wound on his left thigh. Besides his ruined arm, which we had to
|
||
amputate at the shoulder without the benefit of anesthesia or
|
||
antiseptics, my Sergeant also lost an eye. The Captain had two bullet
|
||
wounds to the torso, neither of which was immediately fatal, but he
|
||
would die without treatment. Since he was unconscious, I was the ranking
|
||
officer. I decided we should return to the village as it was the closest
|
||
place we could possibly treat our wounded and regroup.
|
||
|
||
After calling one of the other platoons on the radio and telling
|
||
them to rendezvous with us at the village, we set out. It was hard
|
||
traveling, with the medic's bad leg and the fact that I had to carry the
|
||
Captain, but we made it. Upon our arrival we were greeted by angry
|
||
villagers throwing stones.
|
||
|
||
Looking back on it, I understand perfectly well their motivations.
|
||
And that returning to the village was a terrible tactical decision. But
|
||
I wasn't thinking straight then. I threw my one remaining grenade, and
|
||
the Sergeant's last two, at them. I shot the survivors down one by one.
|
||
Men, women, and children. It wasn't easy. They were running at us. After
|
||
the day I'd had I couldn't usually aim well enough to take them down on
|
||
my first shot. If it wasn't for me, though, they would have killed us.
|
||
As it was, almost everyone in that village old enough to walk was
|
||
killed.
|
||
|
||
The other platoon should have been there. They were waylaid by a
|
||
small Viet Cong force. When they found us, I was bruised and battered by
|
||
stones. But I'd kept the Captain alive, and both of my subordinates who
|
||
had survived the ambush, though the Sergeant was no longer good for much
|
||
and would probably be shipped back home. That's all they cared about.
|
||
|
||
After some patching up and a night's rest, I was more or less
|
||
myself again. Only different. I felt like shit. I'd shot women,
|
||
children, men without weapons. I'd always thought fighting for your
|
||
country was a noble and honorable thing to do. But where was the honor
|
||
in that? And I came to wonder if killing armed men was really any
|
||
different. After all, many of them had wives and families. It seemed no
|
||
less a tragedy to the human race for them to die than me. I wondered
|
||
what I was really doing anyway.
|
||
|
||
But when the word came they were going to give me a medal for it,
|
||
what could I do? I couldn't refuse. It was because I'd saved my Captain.
|
||
The higher-ups didn't care either that a whole village was destroyed in
|
||
the process. The whole thing made me sick to my stomach, but I went
|
||
along anyway. The ceremony was a blur. All I really remember was the
|
||
phrase "above and beyond the call of duty." That really did it. I
|
||
couldn't even use duty as an excuse anymore. It wasn't them making me do
|
||
it. It was me. I was a mass-murderer. My own choice. No one else's
|
||
fault.
|
||
|
||
They gave me some leave afterward. I didn't enjoy it. I spent the
|
||
whole time hating myself. When I was back on duty, as a Captain myself,
|
||
I just went through the motions. I was an ineffective leader in battle.
|
||
They gave me a desk job. I sat through the rest of the war, filling out
|
||
forms like a madman but not really able to lose myself in it.
|
||
|
||
Then after the war I got my current job. I'm a paper pusher at an
|
||
insurance company. Forms are all I'm really good for, it seems. I can't
|
||
keep my mind on anything more demanding on the upper brain centers. I
|
||
still can't lose myself in it though.
|
||
|
||
I hung my medal on the wall opposite my bed. I don't show it off to
|
||
the occasional visitor I get, unless he or she asks about it. That's
|
||
very occasional. I'm not a very social person, now. I don't know why I
|
||
keep it there. Maybe so I'll have to face it first thing in the morning,
|
||
I won't have to get my first sight of it for the day while fully awake.
|
||
Maybe because less people will see and ask about it there. Maybe I just
|
||
don't want myself to forget it or the crime it represents for an
|
||
instant.
|
||
|
||
The worst thing of all is people think I'm a hero because of it.
|
||
Can't they see I'm not? I'm a criminal of the worst kind! I should be in
|
||
an electric chair, not an office chair!
|
||
|
||
I should go to work now, but I can't. I can't face another day of
|
||
this. I can't be a hypocrite, I can't pretend to be an honorable and
|
||
respectable person when I'm not. I must make them see what I truly am.
|
||
|
||
[On July 4, 1990, Captain Eric S. Crusher, retired, of the United
|
||
States Army, entered a supermarket in Kansas City, shot all of the
|
||
cashiers with an automatic pistol, and then shot himself in the head.
|
||
The preceding was found by the police on the desk in his bedroom.]
|
||
|
||
|
||
[>> Phoenix Modernz Inc. :908/830-TANJ <<]
|
||
[>> Modern Textfiles Inc. The Matrix BBS:908/905-6691 <<]
|
||
[>> The Lawless Society Inc. CyberChat BBS:908/506-7637 <<]
|
||
[>> -also- <<]
|
||
[>> Terrapin Biscuit Circuit:908/506-6651 <<]
|
||
|