“No. What the hell is going on?” Major Adams asked, a bit astonished at seeing all the women lined up in front of
the aid station.
“What’s going on, sir, is we’re conducting the VD inspection that you ordered,” stated Doc Christeson, coming out from behind a curtain. He pulled off some rubber gloves and tossed them in a trash can. Doc looked tired, and when he spoke, the major noted the frustration in his voice.
“Doc, you must have forty women lined up outside and four in here. How many have you seen?” the major asked.
“Sir, I’ve already examined fifty-two and they just keep coming. It seems that when it was announced we were examining all the female workers in the company, the entire village decided to come over and get examined. I don’t have a list of who works in the company, so I’m just examining all of them. Medical officers don’t turn people away that are seeking medical assistance, so this could go on for the rest of the day and possibly until curfew tonight.”
“Well, what are you doing with your findings?” Major Adams asked.
“Sir, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. We have names, we’re recording their condition, and I’m giving it to the 1SG to figure out who works in the company area and who does not. The do-nots, I would recommend we give to the medical detachment that’s supposed to be treating the villagers, but that isn’t my decision. I’m just the medical officer. It’s his problem after that. I just examine them.” Doc picked up another set of rubber gloves. “Next,” he said and ushered a sixty-year-old woman into the back examining room.
Chapter 19
Return to the Roost
“Hey, Lieutenant,” the tower operator called out, “that’s your ride on final now.” He pointed at the approaching UH-1 helicopter.
Standing at the First Cav Division helipad, Cory watched the UH-1 Huey approach. Noting the green triangle on the door with the lightning bolt through it, Cory pulled his cap down tight and kept his sunglasses on. He didn’t want to give away the fact that he was back. He figured the right-seat pilot wouldn’t know him, but the aircraft commander probably would, unless he was really new.
Picking up his two duffle bags, Cory approached the aircraft, noting the name of the aircraft commander and crew chief on the side panel. He knew the crew chief but not the aircraft commander. The aircraft commander must have arrived as Cory was leaving back in August or might have been a newbie in the unit when Cory had left, and he just didn’t recognize the name. Cory approached the aircraft on the crew chief’s side and climbed in. The crew chief didn’t pay much attention to Cory until Cory turned, removed his sunglasses, and looked him in the eye. At first it didn’t register with the crew chief who this RLO was giving him the eye. Quickly Cory could tell the crew chief recognized him when he broke into a broad grin. Cory put his fingers to his lips to keep him quiet as he didn’t want it known just yet that he was back in the unit. The crew chief just nodded and shook Cory’s hand while patting his shoulder. Specialist Lovelace had been Cory’s crew chief when Cory had gone home.
From the air, Lai Khe hadn’t changed in four months. Rubber trees covered almost everything except the helicopter parking area and the four-thousand-foot metal runway. Highway 13 ran through the middle of the base from Saigon to the Cambodian border. On the west side of the runway and highway were a cluster of one-story buildings where workers on the base lived. So did the Viet Cong. Gone were the large number of US soldiers that had once occupied Lai Khe, replaced by a smaller contingent of Vietnamese Army soldiers—ARVNs, or Ruff Puffs as they were called. As the aircraft pulled into a revetment and shut down, Cory grabbed his bags, thanked the pilots and walked off towards the company orderly room to report to the company commander. Stepping inside, Cory saw the company clerk and first sergeant.
“Afternoon, First Sergeant,” Cory said to get his attention.
Looking up, the first sergeant eyed him, first with a blank look, then with recognition but no knowledge of who the officer was. Finally the lightbulb went off. “I’ll be damned, Lieutenant Cory. What the hell you doing here?” he asked as he stood up and came over to shake Cory’s hand, which Cory gladly accepted. Cory and Top had always gotten along.
“Well, Top, I’m reporting for duty. It’s a common practice to report to the company headquarters in case you didn’t know. Or should I have gone straight to the club?”
“Sir, you spent enough time in the club to make it a home. Can’t believe you’re back. You volunteered, didn’t you? Dumb bastard—no offense meant, sir.”
“Yes, and none taken.” Cory handed over his packet of paperwork. “Here are my orders and records.”
The first sergeant took the packet and tossed it to the company clerk. “Lockwood, get him in-processed. Assign him to the First Platoon.” Turning back to Cory, he said, “The CO is Major Adams, good man, no nonsense. He flies a lot of the combat assault missions. Been here about two months now, since just after you left. He’s flying today and should be back around eighteen hundred hours. I’ll let him know you’re back. I’ll have someone come get you so you can report. He’s one for proper protocol. What have you been doing?”
“I took the CG’s pilot’s body home and attended the funeral. Went and spent a week with my parents and then it was off to Fort Benning to attend the Infantry Officers’ Basic Course. Tried to get back here in an infantry assignment, but that didn’t work out. Next best thing they offered was coming here to fly. So here I am,” Cory explained.
“How’s your dad doing? He’s back in the States, isn’t he?”
“He’s doing good. Yeah, he’s back and took command of a Navy base in Coos Bay, Oregon. They do underwater research, so they say, but it’s a pretty hush-hush place. He was there before as the Operations officer and later as the executive officer. I got to attend the change-of-command ceremony. Thanks for asking,” Cory responded.
“Well, sir, I guess you need to take your supply records, flight records and medical records and get in-processed with each of them. You know where the RLO hooches are, so go get a bunk. First Platoon is the hooch closest to the O club. Platoon leader is Captain Grubitch. He arrived after you left. Captain Beauchamp is still here and is the Ops officer now, and Captain Wehr is the XO still, although he’ll be PCSing pretty soon.”
“Okay, Top, I’ll get out of your hair and get settled. Good seeing you again,” Cory said, extending his hand, which the first sergeant took.
Leaving the orderly room, Cory decided to head for the platoon hooch and drop his gear before completing in-processing. The company area hadn’t changed in his brief absence. The chicken was visible and hanging around the O club, looking for a drink, probably. Hooch maids were taking in laundry, and some off-duty flight crews were taking in the sun’s rays.
Entering the First Platoon hooch, Cory started looking for an empty bed. The first room he looked into answered his question. First Lieutenant Stu was seated in his lawn chair, writing a letter. He looked up. Recognition was absent for about five seconds, then he burst into a grin.
“Well, I’ll be damned. What the hell are you doing back here?” Stu said as he stood up and shook Dan’s hand.
“I got tired of stateside duty and thought I’d come have some fun. How you been?”
“Good, good,” Stu responded. Stu had previously overlapped with Dan by about three months and had now been in-country for seven months. His last name was of Russian origin, and Cory could never pronounce it right, nor could anyone else, so his shortened first name was used. Stu was single and a bit of a lackadaisical character, which previously had not sat well with the company commander. Cory figured if the new commander was about military protocol, then Stu was probably in hot water most of the time too.
“So where are you bunking?” Stu asked.