Sons of Fortune

“Tell them we’ll be off the ground and on our way in five minutes,” said a voice now fully alert.

“Can I join you?” asked Nat, cupping his hand over the mouthpiece, expecting the inevitable rejection.

“Are you authorized to fly in Hueys?”

“Yes, I am,” lied Nat.

“Any parachute experience?”

“Trained at Fort Benning,” said Nat, “sixteen jumps at six hundred feet from S-123s, and in any case, it’s my regiment out there.”

“Then if you can get here in time, Lieutenant, be my guest.”

Nat replaced the white phone and returned to the red one. They’re on their way, Captain,” was all he said.

Nat ran out of the ops room and into the parking lot. A duty corporal was dozing behind the wheel of a jeep. Nat leaped in beside him, banged the palm of his hand on the horn and said, “Blackbird base in five minutes.”

“But that’s about four miles away, sir,” said the driver.

“Then you’ll have to get moving, won’t you, Corporal,” shouted Nat.

The corporal switched on the engine, threw the jeep into gear, and accelerated out of the parking lot, lights on, leaving the palm of one hand on the horn and the other on the steering wheel. “Faster, faster,” repeated Nat, as those who were still on the streets of Saigon after curfew leaped out of their way along with several startled chickens. Three minutes later, Nat spotted a dozen Huey helicopters perched on the airfield up ahead. The blades on one of them were already rotating.

“Put your foot down,” Nat repeated.

“It’s already touching the floor, sir,” replied the corporal as the gates of the airfield came into sight. Nat counted again: seven of the helicopters now had their blades whirring.

“Shit,” he said as the first one took off.

The jeep screeched to a halt at the gates to the compound, where an MP asked to see their identity cards.

“I have to be on one of those choppers in under a minute,” shouted Nat passing over his papers. “Can’t you speed it up?”

“Just doing my job, sir,” said the MP as he checked both men’s papers.

Once both identity cards had been handed back, Nat pointed to the one helicopter whose blades were not yet rotating, and the corporal shot off toward it, skidding to a halt by an open door, just as its blades began to turn.

The pilot looked down and grinned, “You only just made it, Lieutenant,” he said. “Climb aboard.” The helicopter had lifted off even before Nat had been given a chance to click on his safety harness. “You want to hear the bad news, or the bad news?” asked the pilot.

“Try me,” said Nat.

“The rule in any emergency is always the same. Last off the ground is the first to land in enemy territory.”

“And the bad news?”

“Will you marry me?” asked Jimmy.

Joanna turned and looked at the man who had brought her more happiness in the past year than she could ever have imagined possible. “If you still want to ask me the same question on the day you graduate, freshman, my reply will be yes, but today the answer is still no.”

“But why? What could have possibly changed in a year or two’s time?”

“You’ll be a little older, and hopefully a little wiser,” replied Joanna with a smile. “I’m twenty-five and you’re not yet twenty.”

“What difference can that make if we want to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Just that you might not feel that way when I’m fifty and you’re forty-five.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” said Jimmy. “At fifty you’ll be in your prime, and I’ll be a debauched husk, so you’d better grab me while I’ve still got some energy left.”