http://www.VLBernhardt.

com/

Chapter One

Carlos put on his sunglasses. Through filtered eyes he saw the lush green foliage, the steaming mist in the air; he felt the peace, calm, and stillness of the jungle. But he knew this place was not so. The mosquitoes incubated and swarmed; humidity stung his lungs with its heavy warmth. After Carlos arrived in Vietnam, reality sunk in. This place was nothing like Southern California. He had a sense of unsettledness, fear of the unknown, and an underlying loneliness that he carried with him. Carlos had an inherent wish to survive and eventually leave this hell; a deep hope to return home in one piece. Our young men came to Vietnam from different parts of the country; many just fresh out of high school and away from their mothers for the first time. They watched the John Wayne war movies, which portrayed an unrealistic romantic flavor to war. In the real world, war was brutal and frightening. In just a few short weeks, the newly minted soldiers went through boot camp to transform them from soft and nave to

1 chiseled and focused; they were forced to become men quickly. Most did not want to be here, but each did his duty and choked with grief if his brother fell. Racism was swallowed up in this place; every man was needed, they fought and died together. And any thoughts of love from across the ocean were pocketed after mail call. It was at this crossroad in life where Carlos Galindo met Drunell Richards. They were randomly thrown together at the army camp where they were expected to fulfill their call to duty. Carlos was hand-picked from the infantry because he was a sharpshooter, fearless in battle, with a lot of street smarts. The Medivac team needed a top notch fighter to defend them and their helicopter during rescue missions. The army camp was well organized with a make-shift hospital, defense posts, and barracks. The soldiers had settled into the military routine. In the mess tent, men were milling around and waiting for breakfast to be served. Drunell Richards, an average-built black man, stood in line with his friend, Carlos Galindo, a large, powerfully-built man of Mexican descent. At first glance they seemed to be an unlikely pair for a close friendship, the only thing they had in common was both were from Southern California. Carlos was a true Mexican, a mixture of indigenous, perhaps Aztecan, and Spanish blood. He was born a second generation American. His skin was brownish-red; his neck was short and thick. When he was twelve his nose was broken in a schoolyard fight, so it hooked slightly to the side. His jaw was strong; his teeth were large, straight, and very white. Carlos had an engaging smile; however, he didnt do that too often these days. He looked much taller than his six foot height because of his girth; he was

2 densely packed with muscle. His biceps were almost double that of a normal man and his legs were muscular and well-proportioned; his strength came naturally. To say the least, Carlos was robust; he did have a small fat roll just below his belt that was always there. He worried that maybe he would develop a potbelly, as he grew older. There was a fierce edge to Carlos, a strain on his brow that seemed to be present more often than not. Even in the States during boot camp where racism still held on, the good -olboys from Oklahoma steered clear and watched their mouths around Carlos. When he was calm he had soft warm eyes, the only thing about him that didnt look intimidating. Drunell Richards was a handsome black man, of average height and slender build. His skin was dark and smooth, with no visible scars. Drunell wore his hair cut short; emphasizing a nicely shaped head. Articulate and kind toward everyone, he saw the world from a positive point of view. His dark brown eyes smiled as he spoke. A peaceful, caring person, Drunell prided himself in being a medic. He dreamed of being a physician one day; with the GI Bill he felt he could achieve his dreams. Carlos was quite different from Drunell; he experienced a rush after a kill. Feeling that when he killed one of the Viet Cong, it was like winning a jackpot in Las Vegas Carlos won his life again and again because those persons were not able to kill him. An aggressive, fighting warrior, he feared death after the fact when he was safe; however, he was brave and never buckled during the fighting. Carlos took lives as quickly as Drunell saved them. They were a team and depended on each other. After the Tet offensive, fighting escalated and they flew almost daily missions in the Medivac rescue helicopter. Drunell would rush out to attend to wounded soldiers, with Carlos by his side

3 to defend his friend by furiously firing his M16 rifle or M60 machine gun at the Viet Cong. The early morning hours were quickly ticking away; a subtle feeling of premonition hung in the air. The two men took their food and sat down together. Drunell pulled out a letter from his pocket, along with pictures of an infant; he handed the pictures to Carlos. Speaking with his mouth full, Drunell said, Thats Drunell Jr., hes six months old now. Carlos held up the picture. Hes a good lookinkid. Hes kind of light. Have you told your mama about him yet? Drunell hesitated before he spoke, We decided to tell her in person by just showing her the baby. Elizabeth hasnt met my mom yet. Just two more weeks and Ill be going home, and Ill meet my son for the first time. Did you delay telling her because your babys mother isnt black? No, I just thought showing my mom the baby would be better than a letter, Drunell said sheepishly. Carlos felt like he hit a nerve, so he changed the subject. Drunell, what are you going to do without me? Im leaving this hell hole in three days. I dont know. I get a feeling every once in a while that some thing bad is going to happen and I wont make it home, Carlos said.

4 Everybody feels like that when they get short on time, Drunell said in a comforting voice. They sat quietly eating their powdered eggs and sipping hot coffee. Carlos lit a cigarette and took a long, deep drag. He looked at his friend and grinned. Santa Ana is just down the freeway from Los Angeles, Carlos said. Well shoot pool and have a few beers. Ill be expecting you. Ill be there, Drunell said laughing, Im a shark, Ill try not to take all your money. Carlos chuckled in reply, Id like to see you try. The conversation was abruptly interrupted by their lieutenant who started barking out orders. The men tossed their food and ran to the Huey. Carlos grabbed more ammunition on his way. He looked tense, tight jawed and ready for a fight. He got into his war zone persona of having no fear. Drunell also looked intense but with the look of worry. He hoped that the men they were about to rescue werent wounded critically. He was always disturbed when one died after his touch. Drunell grabbed extra medical supplies and was the last to board the Huey. The lieutenant, who piloted the helicopter, warmed up the engine and then the helicopter lifted off. They droned toward the rescue coordinates. The cargo area of the craft had a large opening on each side. Rescue helicopters were a dull army green with a white square and red cross on the nose and each side. These markings were supposed to protect the wounded, but apparently the V iet Cong didnt hear about that rule. From past missions, the Huey was spattered with bullet holes. Carlos would joke that the X

5 marked the spot for target practice. With his aggressive fighting skills to hold off danger, he was always valuable to the team. As Carlos Galindo looked down at the panoramic view of the jungle, he could see different hues of green in the layers of the canopy. He actually thought this ride would make a good sight-seeing tour, except that there were patches of fire and smoke that glowed toward the horizon as a reminder of war.

Meanwhile, in Long Beach, California morning broke with blue skies, palm trees, and white sand beaches, a most perfect day. In this place the war seemed worlds away; life continued as usual except for the pain felt by families who lost husbands, sons, and brothers. The summer of 1968 had especially good weather. Vince Bartlett finished surfing and was carrying his long board up from the beach. He was a well-built, tall, twenty-four year old man of English descent. Vince had sandy blond hair and steel blue eyes, a full and powerful chest, long lean muscles with wide shoulders and slender hips, culminating into a well-proportioned body. His jaw was pronounced with a mild dimple in the middle of his chin. He had a very masculine chiseled look about him. For this reason, he drew women to him naturally. Vince knew he was attractive and women sometimes pined for him. It wasnt in his heart to be a playboy, it just happened that way because it was so easy. He justified his behavior by viewing his different liaisons as a sport, like playing a game of tennis. Lately, Vince began

6 rethinking how he functioned in his private life. He felt out of his comfort zone ever since meeting Greta Larsen, a civil servant and his personal secretary. Greta was a unique woman and he was quite attracted to her. His muscles rippled as he carried his surfboard up from the beach. Vince enjoyed surfing before work, he felt invigorated after being in the salt water. He had to hurry now so that he would make it to work on time. Vince maneuvered his board into the back of his Woody station wagon. Credence Clearwater Revival blared on the radio as he headed home on Pacific Coast Highway. One would not expect a lieutenant in the army to afford a house on the canal in a prestigious community called Naples in Long Beach. However, Vince was a silver spooner; his father, Robert Bartlett, insisted that he supplement Vinces income so he could purchase a house not far from the Bartlett family residence. Roberts home was just around the canal located on Alamitos Bay. The interior of Vinces house was well appointed with rich, lush furnishings. It was not the usual bachelor dwelling. The home was always clean because Robert directed his maid to stop by at least twice per week; she did the laundry and general housecleaning. Robert did not want his son doing any kind of womans work. When friends came to visit they usually stayed longer than one would expect because of the comfortable feel of the home. At times Vince felt guilty about receiving an allowance from his father, but he took it anyway because he was accustomed to a lavish lifestyle. However, Vince did put a stop to his father stocking the kitchen and refrigerator with food.

7 Parking his Woody, Vince put away his surfboard and hosed off the excess sand before he went through the back door. He quickly showered and shaved. A song by the Doors was blasting away on the stereo while he dressed in his Army uniform. Just before exiting the residence, Vince stopped one more time in front of the full-length mirror. He took a long look at himself; he liked what he saw. He checked his side profile as well. Vince then walked out the back door to the garage where he kept his red Corvette. Fort MacArthur in San Pedro was just a quick twenty-minute drive away. Vince loved driving his sports car; he had it equipped with a four-track tape player, which kept his spirits high while listening to his favorite music. He could see a lot of gray-brown smog in the horizon toward the Northeast; the San Gabriel Mountain range held the bad air tight in its grip. Thankfully, the westerly winds blew the smog away from the coast and the air was relatively clean by the beach. Vince was grateful that he did not live inland. He briefly stopped at the guard gate before he went through to park.

Carlos and Drunell along with the Medivac team, reached their destination and the area looked secure. A Cobra gun ship hovered close by and there was no sign of the Viet Cong anywhere. The pilot spotted the rendezvous area, a small clearing just large enough to land.

8 The medics jumped out of the open door and went right to work, treating the wounded soldiers and preparing them for immediate transport back to base. Carlos stood vigilantly watching for any signs of the enemy; at times he quickly helped load the stretchers onto the Huey using one arm on the stretcher to carry the wounded man and the other to hold his M16 ready to fire at any time. In record time they stabilized the soldiers and had the helicopter filled with the most critically wounded. The less critical cases remained behind for the next air lift out. As the Medivac helicopter lifted off the ground, it didnt get much higher then the canopy of the jungle when unexpectedly some North Vietnamese soldiers popped up from spider holes and opened fire on the ground troops and helicopters. The Cobra gun ship swung into action and blasted the enemy with small rockets and machine gun fire. Bullets whizzed by, their tracers lit up the sky; soldiers yelled and screamed as they dodged the fire, or fell victim to its force, the noise was incredible. Blasting away with his M60 strapped above the doorway, Carlos stood steady to hit his marks as the helicopter strained to climb. Bullets sprayed the craft, hitting the copilot in the shoulder and piercing Carlos bicep. As heavy smoke billowed from the damaged engine, the lieutenant began pleading with the machine, Come on, stay up, dont lose power r ight now, come on baby, he screamed above the din. The engine began sputtering off and on, control was impossible. Suddenly it died completely and the helicopter spiraled downward; the men held on tightly to brace themselves for the inevitable crash, tumbling, stripping limbs and foliage as they fell through the jungle. Billowing smoke and spewing fuel, the craft hit the jungle floor, and

9 the men were slammed to a violent stop. Shrieks of pain filtered through the jungle. Drunell was badly injured but he willed himself to his feet, making his way to the back of the craft to help Carlos first. Drunell was relieved to find Carlos alive and conscious, broken bones protruded from his leg, blood spurted from a cut on his brow, and he had a bullet wound through his bicep. Carlos was moaning from the tremendous pain and Drunell feared that there were internal injuries as well. Bracing himself as he held Carlos under his arms, Drunell slowly dragged him out of the Huey; Drunell struggled under the weight of the much heavier man, both men dripped blood. Stopping at a place he felt was a safe distance from the Huey, Drunell knew the helicopter was going to explode at any moment. For a split second, Drunell felt fear for his own life; after all he and Carlos were safe, returning now for others could be certain death. Drunell quickly aligned Carlos into a comfortable position. It was obvious to Carlos that Drunell was going back to the Huey. Carlos tried to hold Drunells arm but Drunell easily pulled away. No! Carlos yelled, Its too late, stay here. Ive got to go back. Drunell stumbled weakly as he returned to the helicopter. His energy was drained from the blood loss. He made his way to the closest wounded soldier that he could easily reach; the man was unconscious but alive. Drunell groaned in pain as he tried to move the limp weight of the soldier. He was losing precious time. Fuel was soaking the ground all around them. Drunell dragged the soldier through the fuel and

10 didnt stop until he reached Carlos, where he laid the man close by. Carlos knew that Drunell would go back for the others. Leave them, its gonna blow! Carlos yelled. He crossed himself and whispered a prayer, Que Dios te ayude. Drunell ignored his friends warning. He seemed to be moving in slow motion as he returned once again to the Huey. Suddenly, Carlos felt the earth shake and a giant fireball rose to the sky. Death came instantly to Drunell, the crew, and wounded soldiers. The rising smoke mesmerized Carlos, billowing colors of black and gray. He felt nothing, no pain, not even the slightest of emotions. He just looked at the smoke as it floated up and blended into the blue sky. He was numb and in shock, he began to shake. The fact that the Viet Cong were looming near never crossed his mind. He was wounded and defenseless. Darkness enveloped him as he sank into unconsciousness.

Carlos woke up to find himself in a makeshift hospital tent. He had no memory of his rescuers. His head hurt, he was being fed by an I.V. and he felt incredible pain in his left leg. Carlos was sweating and felt restless because of the ongoing pain. It was then that he remembered how Drunell saved his life, and then died in the exploding Huey. For the first time Carlos wept, his sadness outweighed his physical pain. He knew he would be going home, but he never pictured himself returning to the States on a stretcher, the only survivor left alive on his team.

11

Chapter Two

As Vince opened his office door, he saw Greta Larsen sitting behind his desk. He quickly closed the door, went over to Greta and put his arms around her. She struggled a little bit because she did not think this was the time or place for playfulness. Vince didnt care where they were and began kissing Greta passionately. He leaned her over his desk and was about to move his hand up her skirt. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door; Greta was startled. The couple parted and Greta straightened her clothing. She opened the door. A clerk poked his head into the office and reported that Captain Chatterton wanted to speak with Lieutenant Bartlett right away. Vince felt dismayed and anxious. He looked at Greta and then forced a smile. I wonder what I have to do? Greta looked at Vince and reciprocated with a smile. Why dont you go find out?

12 Vince took a big bite out of a donut from a plate that Greta had waiting for him, then washed it down with a gulp of coffee before he went to the Captains office. Lieutenant Bartlett, come in and close the door, Captain Chatterton said. Ive got some orders here for you. Normally the chaplains have this duty, but there are too many announcements for them to handle. So, every Lieutenant has to do it at least once. Vince listened closely and figured out by the Captains tone of voice that it was not going to be pleasant. He handed Vince an envelope and a file folder. Review some of the necessary details enclosed. You need to inform this family that their son was killed in action. Youre to make the announcement to them and then get out of there right away. Keep it official. Vince took the information and went back to his office. He sat down and carefully opened the orders and read pensively. After an hour passed, Greta came into his office and stood in front of his desk; she was curious about what kind of orders Vince received. He stopped reading for a moment. Looking at Greta with fresh eyes he thought to himself, she is a natural beauty. There was something about this woman that was different from the others. He could not put his finger on it but there was something. Gretas parents had emigrated from Denmark two years before she was born. A classic Scandinavian beauty with steel blue eyes and high cheekbones, Greta recently graduated from the University of Southern California as an English Major. One month after graduation, her parents went back to the family farm in Denmark. Greta was given a stipend of income to pay for her basic expenses until she found a job. She was not

13 sure about a career path, so she applied for a secretarial position working for the US Government. Gretas first day on the job landed her in the office of Lieutenant Vince Bartlett. Vince pursued Greta for two months before she finally agreed to go out with him. Her first impression was that Vince was vain and self-centered. She was sexually attracted to him, but had her reservations. On their first date Greta became irritated with Vince because he was gawking at other women. She told him that his staring was quite disrespectful, and that if he kept it up she would not agree to go out with him again. Vince had never heard words like this before. Of course, after some private stewing, he changed his rude behavior. Also, Greta did not wait around for him to call her; she made plans ahead of time and had no qualms in saying so. Soon Vince found himself calling Greta as early as Wednesday if he wanted to go out with her on a Friday. Greta enjoyed being around Vince, but continued to be guarded and kept a limit to how far she would go sexually with him. We wont be going to Long Beach Yacht Club tonight to meet my Dad, Vince said. Im going to have to cancel our plans. Greta was disappointed. She was looking forward to meeting Robert Bartlett. She even went shopping for a new dress for the occasion. Vince saw that she was upset and decided to explain the situation. Theres a Private Drunell Richards whos been killed in action. He was a brave man. I wonder if, given the same circumstances, I could be that brave ; I dont think so. Anyway, Ive got to tell his parents that their son was killed in action. This is the first

14 time Ive had to do anything like this. How do you tell parents that their son is dead? His parents arent married, so I have to make two stops. You have to be the bearer of bad news twice? She said. Yeah, maybe even a third time. Private Richards left his military pay and survival benefits to a minor, Drunell Richards Jr. in care of Elizabeth Garcia. Nothing went to his mother. Theres an address here, I guess I should stop by. I really want to get this over with. Im sorry you have to do this. Ill go to the mothers house this afternoon and make the other two announcements tomorrow. Vince gathered his orders, gave Greta a quick kiss and left the office. Vince had to go home and put on his full military uniform before making the announcement. It was important to follow the military protocol. He polished his brass and his shoes; he was very somber. He decided to swing by his fathers house on the way out of town. He just walked in the front door, which was expected. He found his father in the study sipping on a gin martini and enjoying a fat cigar. Dad, Greta and I cant meet you for dinner tonight. I have an assignment that has to be done this afternoon and I wont get back in time. Im sorry to hear that, I wanted to meet your girlfriend. Are you serious with this one?

15 Not any more than the others, Dad. Shes beautiful, athletic, and a good sailor. I thought shed enjoy watching the finish of the Wet Wednesday Races. Shes never been to Long Beach Yacht Club. So she sails. Why dont you invite her sailing? Well take the Irish Mist out. Okay Dad, Ill call you later. Vince left his fathers home, walked out to the curb and got into his red corvette.

Rose Richards, Drunells mother, never left her fathers home in Compton California; and she was never married. After having Drunell she insisted on using Mrs. in front of her name for appearances sake, and nobody dared to argue with her about it. Rose was a fairly attractive, middle-aged black woman with high cheekbones and a round face giving her a youthful look. Her skin was dark, flawless, and smooth; her arms were long, hairless, and graceful. Although she had a limited income, she always kept herself well groomed and never left the house without doing her hair and nails. Rose was an emotionally volatile woman and would have been a true rebel, had it not been for her heavy involvement in the Baptist Church. This alone kept her from losing control of her temper; and of course she cared a lot about what people thought about her. Rose loved to sing and she had the voice of an angel, with a perfect ear for pitch; she never sang off key. Sought after by other churches for special occasions, she sang solos and helped to keep the other sopranos in the choir on pitch.

16 One Christmas season, when she was a young woman, she was invited to sing in a musical sponsored by a Methodist church in San Diego. Rose had never been away from home and staying in a hotel, with all expenses paid was like a dream come true. She went to check in to her room as she was told. She remembered walking up to the counter and smiling at the clerk. He did not smile back as he pointed to the sign in the window. No coloreds allowed, cant you read the sign? Rose never saw the sign and felt enraged. Rose was the only black woman. She felt like jumping over the counter and slapping the clerk silly. She was interrupted by a gentle tug. The Pastors wife smiled at her while she told her they would be honored for her to stay at their home. She went on to tell Rose that she was a great cook and the food at her house was far better than that in a hotel. Not another word was spoken about what happened with the clerk. Rose stayed with the pastor and his wife for the next few days until the performance was over. Rose never forgot the incident and she was angered anytime she thought about it. She embraced the Civil Rights movement and had great admiration for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and wept bitterly when he was shot in April. Recently, she was saddened when Senator Robert Kennedy was assassinated because he was a good man and championed their cause. She was glad to see the No Coloreds Allowed signs come down, and there were no more special drinking fountains. Instead, racism assumed a new covert form and headed underground. Lately Rose was in good spirits because she had less than two weeks to wait until her son, Drunell would be returning home from Vietnam. Only then could she stop

17 worrying about him. It had been a long year since she saw him last, they had never been separated for long periods before, except for the few weeks he was in boot camp. Her life revolved around Drunell. The entire time Drunell was in Vietnam, Rose felt stressed and irritable; she never got a full nights sleep. Lately she was busy planning a welcome home party for him. The older girls from Sunday school volunteered to make a large welcome home banner to go across the front porch. She was extremely proud of her son and knew that someday he would persevere and become a physician and reach his goals.

Vince headed north on the freeway and then exited at Compton Blvd. He soon realized that he was in an all black neighborhood. Some homes had cars parked on the front lawn, other homes had litter and empty beer cans strewn around and Vince noticed that some of the windows and doors had bars over them, giving the houses a drab prison look. He became apprehensive, since after all, he was white, and an officer who represented authority. There was the Civil Rights movement to consider with a lot of racial tension. He vaguely remembered the Watts riots that took place three years ago. It wasnt that he was a racist; he just wasnt sure how the Richards family would view him. Vince had never been to a poor neighborhood before now. He had very little exposure to blacks. He remembered really enjoying the company of a couple of black guys who graduated with him from Officers Candidate School, but that was about it. He

18 looked at the address and then drove by the house slowly. He decided to park his Corvette a short block away and walk to the house, Vince wished he had driven his Woody station wagon instead. As he approached the house, he saw an attractive middle-aged black woman; the woman did not notice him. She walked slowly around the house as she carefully handled a dish of food. She did not want to spill a drop. Vince sensed that this might be Drunells mother, Mrs. Rose Richards. He approached the Richards home, which was a wooden bungalow built at the turn of the century; it was sturdy enough, but badly needed a paint job. Walking up four stairs to the porch, he knocked at the front door. Roses father, Albert Richards, opened the door. He had a look of surprise on his face for a split second, but then his response was emotionless and blunted. However, there was no malice in his eyes. Excuse me sir, does Mrs. Rose Richards live here? Vince said. Yeah, she was here a while ago, she was just in the front. Sir, would it be alright if I went around the house to look for her? Yeah, I guess so. As he started to walk around the house, he noticed it looked more run down from the side, with a tilted, broken fence. As he went around the house he briefly got a glimpse of Rose Richards. Her eyes continued to be focused on the dish of food; Rose did not see him. She slipped through an opening where the slats were missing in the fence, and headed for a house next door that tucked behind another house. Vince followed the path that Rose took. Music and laughter drifted from the house that she

19 entered. Suddenly, just before Vince was going to slip through the opening in the fence, a large dog lunged at him from nowhere. Vince felt real panic, adrenaline pumped through his body. He stepped back ready to defend himself from the large snarling dog. With relief, he noticed that the dog was chained so he went around. Slipping through the fence, he made his way to the neighbors house. From a distance he glanced through the window and could see that there were a lot of people. They were eating, drinking, and having a party. There was booze, beer, and the smell of delicious food. It seemed that the people were crowded around in the kitchen. Motown music blasted from the stereo; everyone was talking loudly and having a good time. He paused, took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and then knocked on the back door. The neighbor opened the door. He did not smile, but gradually looked disturbed. He thought to himself, why would this white officer be here this couldnt be good. The neighbor said nothing, so Vince decided to speak first to break the silence. Id like to speak with Mrs. Rose Richards, I saw her go in. I need to speak with her, its very important. Shes over there. Opening the door, the neighbor allowed Vince to enter, he pointed toward the hallway. Vince walked through the back door into the kitchen. Everyone stopped talking and just stared at him. The situation sank in very quickly; everyone was sensing that something terrible was about to take place. Many did not like the military; it represented

20 the draft, which took too many of their boys. They did not like the war; to them it was a waste. Vince walked through slowly, trying to maintain his bearings. As he got through the kitchen he could see Rose Richards in the hallway, even though it was not very well lit. Are you Mrs. Rose Richards? I am. The music in the kitchen was turned down low. The people at the party were still and quiet. Vince realized he had an audience; he struggled to maintain his composure. Without regard for privacy, Vince stood at attention and said, The United States Government regrets to inform you that your son, Drunell Richards, was killed in action... Rose dropped to her knees and wailed while holding her stomach. Oh God, no! she screamed, her grief seemed to fill the room. Some women at the party went to her and attempted to comfort her. Vince just stood there; he was not through with his announcement. He could sense that his presence was not wanted. The old black man, Albert, appeared and went to his daughter to comfort her. Vince waited a brief moment longer but soon realized he would not be able to speak with the grieving mother. He spotted the neighbor in the group. Would you let Mrs. Richards know that she will be receiving an official telegram? Ill be contacting her with information about the funeral arrangements. The neighbor just nodded his head. Vince walked back out through the kitchen. Everyone was quiet and in shock.

21 The music was off; only the pot of greens boiling on the stove was heard. They knew Drunell well, they saw him grow up; they knew he went to Vietnam, and now they knew he was dead. Vince walked back to his car and leaned against it while he had a cigarette. He hated the smell of smoke in his car. He took about three long drags before he put it out. He got into his car and headed back to Long Beach. Vince decided that he needed a drink, and it was getting into the early evening hour. He felt that he needed his spirits lifted. He headed for the Long Beach Pike. Vince walked through the amusement park toward the beach; there was noise of laughter that filtered down from the roller coaster and gaming area. He took a short walk on the beach and stood for a moment watching the waves and sunset. He smoked another cigarette, and he began to feel somewhat better. Vince decided that it was time for a couple of stiff drinks. He walked back through the Pike and found a bar close by; it looked like a singles hot spot. It was a new bar that just opened last month; Vince had wanted to check it out. Music was playing; there were plenty of single women to go around. Vince sat at the bar and ordered a Bourbon and 7up. He soon noticed some sneers and mumbling from other patrons because of his full army uniform. The sneering men had scruffy long hair, and were clearly against the war. There was a table nearby of four military men, judging by their haircuts. The four men looked hard at the patrons who were whispering and about to start trouble. The situation never became more then just

22 sneering, and that quickly ended when the long hairs noticed that they were outnumbered. Vince had a few long sips of his drink. He felt much better now. The bar had a nautical flavor inside; it was decorated with pictures of the stormy ocean, models of sailboats and fishnets, dried shark jaws and a lot of interesting trinkets. A pleasant looking young woman had been admiring Vince; she approached him and sat down next to him, introducing herself as Kitty. Is this seat taken? No, can I buy you a drink? Yes, Id like a rum and coke. Kitty looked at Vince and smiled, she leaned down a bit so that he could see the cleavage of her breasts. She crossed her legs and allowed her skirt to ride high near her hip just enough to keep her covered. The two drank together, and then they had a couple more. Would you like to come to my place for another drink? Kitty said. Okay.

23 Neither Kitty nor Vince were interested in another drink. Vince and Kitty walked into the bedroom, the room was dimly lit from the outside streetlight shining through the window. They began to kiss passionately, he got her blouse opened and cupped her breasts. They were all over each other; they began pulling off their clothes. Kitty giggled as they fell naked onto the bed; she was delighted with what she saw. Vince began gently licking her breast and Kitty reached down and stroked his manhood he was fully engorged and large. They continued kissing and fondling each other as their excitement increased. Vince put his hand on her mound and gently rubbed her rhythmically. Kitty was flushed and motioned for him to begin. She arched her back and moaned as he entered her. Vince moved his hips slowly and they met in unison. He continued just a little faster, he concentrated and held back until Kitty yelled out and shivered. Vince then exploded and moaned with pleasure. Vince lay on Kitty for a few moments. He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. After a few minutes, Vince sat up and asked her if she wanted a cigarette. They both smoked and then Vince started to get dressed. Kitty looked disappointed; she felt used, but on the other hand it was great and she would certainly do it again. She felt that maybe if she were lucky they would get together again. Cant you stay for breakfast? I have to get an early start tomorrow. Can I have your phone number? Kitty was pleased and felt hopeful that he was interested in her. She quickly wrote down her number and handed it to him.

24 Thanks, Ill call you. Ill see myself out.Vince finished dressing and walked out of the apartment. He wadded up the paper with Kittys phone number on it, and tossed it in the bushes. It was after midnight when he got home; Vince was very tired after the days activities. He changed and had a bowl of ice cream before he went to bed, then he reflected on his day and was glad it was over. Vince worried about the other two death announcements he had to make the next day. Then he thought about Greta and how lovely she was. For the first time Vince felt guilty after having a one-night-stand, and lost his taste for it because of his strong feelings for Greta.