The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE. (27 page)

BOOK: The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE.
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As Killian came to a small opening, with his weapons at his side, he saw a North Vietnamese captain standing by a tree, staring at him. The captain, who was the only gook still alive, had his revolver pointed at Killian.

The officer yelled at him. “Why are you killing your own people?”

Killian didn’t say anything as he morphed back to a tall, red-bearded American soldier.

The Vietnamese captain stared in disbelief at the man who now stood before him. He stumbled backward, and then regained his composure enough to fire at Killian. The bullet struck Killian in the chest, but he didn’t fall. The captain stood for a moment staring at him, and then fired four more shots. The man opposite him merely stumbled as the bullets struck. Blood squirted from Killian’s body. He gave the captain a ghastly grin, and took a step toward him. The shocked officer raised the revolver to his head, and blew out his brains.

Lieutenant Wheeler and his men couldn’t figure out what was happening in the jungle. The gooks had quit firing at them, but there was still gunfire in the bush. Then it became eerily silent. Lieutenant Wheeler instructed the Yards to be on the alert. They heard a few more shots, and then it became quiet again.

“I don’t understand this, sir,” said Sergeant Glun.

“I don’t either, sergeant. It’s sort of weird.”

“Should we check out the area, sir?”

“Not yet. I don’t like the silence. It’s eerie, sergeant.”

“You’re right there, sir.”

Killian didn’t immediately return to his troop. After the North Vietnamese captain had put the revolver to his head, pulled the trigger, and crumpled to the ground, Killian sat in the grass and cried. He was sick of fighting, sick of war, and was sick of the Blue Warriors.

“I’ve had over a hundred years of fighting in war. Isn’t that enough?” he said aloud, looking up to the heavens. He buried his face in his hands. “Connor, I’m sorry, this is all I could do for you.” He continued to sob over the loss of his friend. He didn’t notice the pain of his healing wounds.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard the Montagnards moving into the jungle nearby. Killian stood up, circled around the troop, transformed, and came up behind the lieutenant.

Wheeler looked at him. “Killian, where’ve you been?”

“I went back into the jungle. I’ve been thinking about this lousy war, and my friend, Connor.”

The lieutenant nodded his understanding, and pointed toward the jungle in front of him. “There’s something strange happening up there.”

Sergeant Glun, who had gone on ahead, yelled back. “Lieutenant, you’ve got to see this.”

Wheeler hurried forward, but Killian went back to the plane wreckage, which was being guarded by three Montagnards. He looked down at the bodies of the pilot and his buddy Connor. They had been covered with army-green ponchos.

Lieutenant Wheeler and Sergeant Glun found the bodies of the Vietnamese soldiers, as well as that of the captain, who had committed suicide. The sergeant and the Green Beret adviser looked at the lieutenant, who shook his head and shrugged. He, like them, had no idea what had happened. They left the enemy soldiers where they’d fallen. It would be up to the NVA to bury their dead. Lieutenant Wheeler called in for a CH-1 helicopter airlift to take out the bodies of the lieutenant pilot, Sergeant Connor, and his troop, who were still confused at the sight of the dead North Vietnamese soldiers. Before they headed back to base, they blew up what remained of the 0-1 Bird Dog aircraft, so not to leave anything for the NVA.

When Lieutenant Wheeler returned to the operations hooch he filled out one of the strangest reports ever filed during the war. It read:

While defending a downed FAC Cessna 0-1 Bird Dog aircraft we engaged in a firefight with a North Vietnamese Army patrol. They were attempting to get to the wreckage of the plane, and the men on board. Then an odd thing happened. The enemy stopped firing at us. There were a few minutes of silence, and then more shots being fired, but this time, the shooting was within their area of the jungle. For a couple of minutes all went quiet, then a few more shots were heard. It became eerily silent. We waited fifteen minutes before we began to probe the area. What we found didn’t make any sense. We located twenty-two dead North Vietnam soldiers, who were still positioned to attack us. Some had been stabbed while others had been shot at close range. In a small opening of the jungle, we found a North Vietnam Army captain, who had shot himself in the head. There is no real explanation for this unusual scene of slaughter, other than the North Vietnamese captain went berserk, and one by one killed his solders, and committed suicide.

Lieutenant Larry Wheeler

Connor Boyle’s parents were notified their only son had been “Killed in Action”. Killian, not being assigned to any military unit as he was an independent civilian SERE instructor, was free to leave Vietnam at any time. He was now ready to leave, and wanted to escort Connor’s body back home.

In 1950, the United States began a policy of “concurrent return”, which called for the flying of the bodies of fallen troops back to the U.S. as quickly as possible. The Air Mobility Command was designated as the nation’s pallbearers, ferrying the flag-draped remains in metallic transfer cases to Dover Air Force Base in Delaware. They didn’t have special crews who were assigned specifically to bring out the nation’s dead. When Killian learned of this, he asked to be able to take Staff Sergeant Connor Boyle’s personal effects and be part of the crew who would escort his body home. It was known as the ‘Angel Flight’ bringing home our fallen soldiers. Those in command at Air Mobility welcomed his offer to travel as part of the crew to accompany Connor and the bodies of five other soldiers, who had lost their lives in Vietnam.

Early the next morning Killian said goodbye to Lieutenant Wheeler, Sergeant Glun and the Montagnard soldiers. Then he, the bodies of Connor and the lieutenant who had been the pilot of the Bird Dog were flown in a CH-21 helicopter to Saigon. There Killian met a Tech. Sergeant, who was the loadmaster, and the other crew members designated to serve as the nation’s pallbearers. They loaded six metallic cases into a cargo plane and departed for the long flight from Saigon to Dover, Delaware. The bringing out of the dead was one of the most emotionally taxing missions for the crew members, who spent hours traveling with the flag-draped remains.

Throughout the flight Killian found himself staring at the metallic cases. He thought about what he had been taught regarding the flag-draped coffins and pictured a military burial ceremony.

The twenty-one gun salute, which stands for the sum of the numbers in the year 1776. Then there’s the folding of the American flag thirteen times. The first fold is a symbol of life. The second fold is a symbol of the belief in eternal life. The third fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing the ranks, who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of the country to attain peace throughout the world. The fourth fold represents the weaker nature, for as Americans citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in time of war for His divine guidance. The fifth fold is a tribute to the country, for the words of Steven Decatur, “Our Country, in dealing with other countries may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.” The sixth fold is for where people’s hearts lie. It is with their heart that they pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and the Republic for which it stands, one nation Under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all. The seventh fold is a tribute to its Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that they protect their country and their flag against all enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of their republic. The eighth fold is a tribute to the one who entered the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day. The ninth fold is a tribute to womanhood, and mothers. For it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and woman who have made this country great has been molded. The tenth fold is a tribute to the father, for he too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of their country since they were first born. The eleventh fold represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon and glorifies in the Hebrew’s eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The twelfth fold represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the Christian’s eyes, God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit. The thirteenth fold, or when the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding them of their Nation’s motto, ‘In God We Trust.’

Killian looked at each of the flag-draped coffins and wondered about each dead soldier in turn.

How old was he? What was his life like before Vietnam? Was he married? Did he have children? Are his parents alive? Where was he from? Did he live in the country or was he a big city boy?

Those and other questions kept racing through Killian’s mind. Then his attention settled on the flag-draped case of his friend Connor Boyle. He knew a few things about Connor. After his friend’s parents had been notified, Killian called them. It had been a difficult thing to do, but he had felt it was necessary. He wanted to introduce himself as Connor’s friend. He wanted to let them know he was going to be accompanying the body back to the Dover Air Force Base. He had also wanted to know more about his dead friend.

Connor’s parents had, of course, been distressed. However, they had been glad to hear from one of their son’s friends, and to learn he’d be accompanying Connor’s body back home. Killian learned his friend had never married. He had an older sister, who lived in Colorado with her husband and two small girls. Connor’s dad told Killian his son had been a good athlete in high school and had been an avid Boston Red Sox fan. Connor joined the military after giving college a six-month try, but that life hadn’t been to his liking. He also told Killian his son had been proud to have made Staff Sergeant and be part of the Forward Air Control. Connor’s mother had added that her son had mentioned Killian in his last letter.

Tears came to Killian’s eyes as he thought of that conversation and of his dead friend. He closed his eyes; tears ran down his cheeks and into his thick red beard. At last, he fell asleep.

Hours later, the cargo plane landed at Dover Air Force Base and taxied up to a long, low building with broad stretches of tinted glass. The building was surrounded by parking spaces. Killian thought it looked like a big warehouse, not a place where fallen soldiers were brought for processing before being sent to their home town.

There were quite a few family members in the building awaiting the arrival of their son, husband, dad or brother. After the six cases were unloaded into the building, Killian met Connor’s parents. His mother was a wisp of a woman with a gentle smile, who exuded friendliness. When Killian shook hands with Connor’s dad, he grinned, as he realized Connor, had been the spitting image of his father. As he handed them Connor’s personal effects, he could see they were doing the best they could to hold back their emotions. He sat with them during the short ceremony for the six dead soldiers. Then Connor’s dad left for a few minutes to meet with the people at the Mobility Command to make arrangements for his son’s body to be taken to their home town of Boston, to be buried.

Killian and Mrs. Boyle spent those few minutes in conversation. She wanted to know about her son’s last days. Killian told her about some of the good times they’d had, though not everything. When Connor’s dad returned, they wanted to know about the day their son was killed. Killian told them the story almost exactly as it happened. The only part he changed was that he let them believe it was Lieutenant Wheeler and his troop who had caught and killed the North Vietnamese soldiers, who had tried to capture their son and the plane. Connor’s dad had tears in his eyes. Mrs. Boyle was quietly weeping. As Killian looked at them, he thought that Connor had been fortunate to have had such nice parents.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” he told them solemnly, “and I want you to know I’ll always remember my friend Connor.” Then he showed them the tattoo on his right forearm. “We both had this done a few days before Connor’s plane was shot down.”

Connor’s mother held Killian’s arm and patted the tattoo, as if she was patting the arm of her own son.

CHAPTER 17

L
ater that afternoon,
Killian called the office of Congressman Kipling Smith. He told his friend he’d be arriving at Washington’s National Airport in the evening. When he stepped off the plane and walked into the airport lobby, both Kip and Maggie were there to meet him. They informed him they planned on spending a few days with him at Zack’s ranch.

The following day, Whelan Dunn showed up at the ranch and joined them for lunch. Whelan was anxious to hear the true story from Killian about what was really going on over in Vietnam. He knew the usual scuttlebutt and the propaganda the government and CIA were feeding the local newspapers, was as he put it ‘bullshit’.

“Killian, it’s my belief we’re getting a different story here about Vietnam from what’s truly happening there. As you know, up until the middle of this year the CIA was absolutely and exclusively responsible for creating and carrying out the policies which led up to the Vietnam War. They sponsored Ngo Dinh Diem, and they provided the arms and leadership for Diem to crush his opponents. They were also involved with the Michigan State University Advisory Group. We know the United States policy in Vietnam was a CIA monopoly.”

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