that?”
Jacobs primed his ears. “What?”
“The crunch of those sticks ripping through an American soldier, tearing apart bones and flesh.” Stephens nodded to Jacobs. Sweat poured off the young lieutenant. “You look too hot. You running a temperature?”
“No. I’m fine,” Jacobs was quick to answer.
“The pit might as well be that of hell, the heat melting you away to nothing more than a big mistake,” said Stephens.
“Okay, you’ve made your point, Stephens. We both know I messed up. Let’s move on.”
“We destroy it with a Willie Peter,” continued Stephens. “The heat will burn the stakes into non-existence. We get the men to stand back, of course; you don’t want that burning phosphorus to stick to any of them.
“We hear the pop, the enemy don’t, and once the smoke has cleared, we move on. Safe in the knowledge the primitive gooks don’t get to have the satisfaction of finding one of our boys in there.” Stephens placed his helmet back on.
“That makes sense,” admitted Jacobs.
“I know. I make heaps of sense. All the time.”
The look of embarrassment on Jacobs’s face was plain to see.
“Don’t worry about it. You have me here, just follow my suggestions if you get stuck,” added Stephens.
“What you put forth was not beyond my knowledge or skill. I’ve got to get myself in the game. I’ve got to think with speed but with clarity,” said Jacobs.
“You’ve gotta access all possibilities but within an instant. Analyze, consider all variables, and then formulate the best plan, the safest course of action. It takes practice. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to be as good as me one day.” Stephens sneered.
They followed the sergeant’s suggestion.
Maxwell took pictures of the pit before, during, and after the Willie Pete was thrown in.
• • • • •
The platoon pushed on, Diaz back at point, Stephens behind him, then the rest in line formation.
Maxwell walked to Jacobs’s side again. “So what did you talk about with Stephens?” he whispered.
“Just how stupid the order I’d given was,” said Jacobs.
“Oh.”
“I don’t like Stephens, even if he knows his stuff. Which is without a doubt useful. But I don’t like his cocky attitude and his views and opinions of what it’s really like in Nam. I can sense he could create trouble down the line. Maybe challenge my authority. What are my orders to a man who thinks himself a god?”
“I see your reason for concern. It does appear to be justified,” said Maxwell.
“I’m not even certain if Stephens would be a good man to have on my side in a firefight,” said Jacobs. “Sure he would relish shooting the enemy into little bitty pieces, but he seems like the type to stomp his annoyances into a pulp, no matter whose side they’re on. Like he’d take any opportunity to do it too.
“The confusion of a battle would be an opportunity, the perfect opportunity. I’m worried Stephens wouldn’t think twice about taking out one of his own platoon, if they had caused him enough grief. He could pass it off as the enemy’s handiwork, just another dead body to ship home.
“Maybe that’s what happened to the last LT?” Jacobs shook his head. “I’m considering too many maybes. The possible outcomes, of all the possible scenarios, are giving me a headache. I can feel the pain behind my eyes. I’ve got to stop casting suspicions on Stephens. The man has done nothing wrong, yet.”
“Yet?” asked Maxwell.
“You’re right, I’m presuming he will do something wrong.”
“You know what they say about presumption?” said Maxwell.
“No,” answered Jacobs.
“It’s the mother of all …”
“The mother of all what?” asked Jacobs.
“It’s a curse word followed by the word, ups.”
“Oh.” Jacobs walked in silence for a second before he continued. “I’ve got to accept that people have different worldviews than my own. Just because they don’t fall in line with my views doesn’t
Jacobs primed his ears. “What?”
“The crunch of those sticks ripping through an American soldier, tearing apart bones and flesh.” Stephens nodded to Jacobs. Sweat poured off the young lieutenant. “You look too hot. You running a temperature?”
“No. I’m fine,” Jacobs was quick to answer.
“The pit might as well be that of hell, the heat melting you away to nothing more than a big mistake,” said Stephens.
“Okay, you’ve made your point, Stephens. We both know I messed up. Let’s move on.”
“We destroy it with a Willie Peter,” continued Stephens. “The heat will burn the stakes into non-existence. We get the men to stand back, of course; you don’t want that burning phosphorus to stick to any of them.
“We hear the pop, the enemy don’t, and once the smoke has cleared, we move on. Safe in the knowledge the primitive gooks don’t get to have the satisfaction of finding one of our boys in there.” Stephens placed his helmet back on.
“That makes sense,” admitted Jacobs.
“I know. I make heaps of sense. All the time.”
The look of embarrassment on Jacobs’s face was plain to see.
“Don’t worry about it. You have me here, just follow my suggestions if you get stuck,” added Stephens.
“What you put forth was not beyond my knowledge or skill. I’ve got to get myself in the game. I’ve got to think with speed but with clarity,” said Jacobs.
“You’ve gotta access all possibilities but within an instant. Analyze, consider all variables, and then formulate the best plan, the safest course of action. It takes practice. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to be as good as me one day.” Stephens sneered.
They followed the sergeant’s suggestion.
Maxwell took pictures of the pit before, during, and after the Willie Pete was thrown in.
• • • • •
The platoon pushed on, Diaz back at point, Stephens behind him, then the rest in line formation.
Maxwell walked to Jacobs’s side again. “So what did you talk about with Stephens?” he whispered.
“Just how stupid the order I’d given was,” said Jacobs.
“Oh.”
“I don’t like Stephens, even if he knows his stuff. Which is without a doubt useful. But I don’t like his cocky attitude and his views and opinions of what it’s really like in Nam. I can sense he could create trouble down the line. Maybe challenge my authority. What are my orders to a man who thinks himself a god?”
“I see your reason for concern. It does appear to be justified,” said Maxwell.
“I’m not even certain if Stephens would be a good man to have on my side in a firefight,” said Jacobs. “Sure he would relish shooting the enemy into little bitty pieces, but he seems like the type to stomp his annoyances into a pulp, no matter whose side they’re on. Like he’d take any opportunity to do it too.
“The confusion of a battle would be an opportunity, the perfect opportunity. I’m worried Stephens wouldn’t think twice about taking out one of his own platoon, if they had caused him enough grief. He could pass it off as the enemy’s handiwork, just another dead body to ship home.
“Maybe that’s what happened to the last LT?” Jacobs shook his head. “I’m considering too many maybes. The possible outcomes, of all the possible scenarios, are giving me a headache. I can feel the pain behind my eyes. I’ve got to stop casting suspicions on Stephens. The man has done nothing wrong, yet.”
“Yet?” asked Maxwell.
“You’re right, I’m presuming he will do something wrong.”
“You know what they say about presumption?” said Maxwell.
“No,” answered Jacobs.
“It’s the mother of all …”
“The mother of all what?” asked Jacobs.
“It’s a curse word followed by the word, ups.”
“Oh.” Jacobs walked in silence for a second before he continued. “I’ve got to accept that people have different worldviews than my own. Just because they don’t fall in line with my views doesn’t
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