Freedom Hill
The Alpha and Omega
by
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The gun trucks from a convoy were just pulling up to the armory to secure the guns. There was a new kid coming out of the armory with the armor to help get the guns off the trucks. I could tell he had just gotten there--he was still in cash sales gear and he didn't have the look that came automatically after you were in Nam for a while.
The gunner on the first truck jerked his gun off the mount and slammed it down on the side rail where the armor and the driver shared the load and carried the heavy gun to the armory. The new kid went to the second truck to help with their gun. He was standing at the side of the truck waiting for the gunner to hand the awkward weapon down. The gunner jerked it off the mount and, with the barrel turned outboard, let the heavy gun slam down on the rack-less steel side of the truck. A loud "crack" rang out as the jarred bolt of the big gun went home on an overlooked chambered round. Everything above the eyes on the new kid's head exploded and splattered against the side of the armory and the bulletin board outside of the company office.
The impact of the big round knocked his body back several feet and the kid lay motionless, spread-eagle on his back. I walked over to his body and looked down at him. His eyes were wide open and he had that stare that I had seen before. It's hard to imagine what a person looks like with only half a head. They're so distorted...don't even look human anymore...well...you just wanted to puke.
There was a crowd gathering, and I heard someone say that he had just arrived in camp yesterday. Two corpsmen came up from the Battalion Aid Station with a litter. They put his remains in the olive drab body bag, zipped it up, loaded him on the litter and hauled him away. I remember thinking, as they took him away, maybe he was one of the lucky ones, the ones who got it right away. He didn't have to endure this hell. It was over for him. It was all over. He wouldn't have to endure the paranoia of surviving 12 or 13 months of this hell only to get blown away in his last few days. I think that was everyone's nightmare.
I turned and walked slowly toward my hooch. When I looked down to kick a rock on the ground, I realized that part of his head was splattered on my boot and the leg of my jungles. I knelt down and grabbed a handful of dirt and rubbed it on the stained, whitish, worn boot. The dirt soaked up the fleshy mess, and I wiped it off my boot. The stain remained. It remained both on my boot and in my mind.
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About the Book
This book looks at the Vietnam War from a new angle.
While most books on the subject center around a battle or operation, this book
introduces the central character as he comes of age and faces the draft. It
stays with him through that process and his traumatic experience of Marine
Corps boot camp. The work then follows him to Southeast Asia where his life is
graphically chronicled and we get an amazingly candid look at the day-to-day
war through the eyes of a young draftee. The toughest battles for most veterans
of that war were fought in the mind. The severe mood swings from the deepest
depressions to unbelievable highs kept combatants teetering on the edge of
sanity. This book expertly exposes the emotional roller-coaster that threatened
the stability of the mind. For the first time, you will understand why the
Vietnam War was so damaging to so many veterans. Hundreds of thousands of young
men served in the Vietnam War, each came home with a story--this book tells most
of them. This fresh revealing look at the Vietnam experience is one you won’t
want to miss.
About the Author
J. Eldon Holbrook was born and raised in the small
town of Brainerd, Minnesota and attended Washington Senior High School. The
Vietnam draft was moving into full swing in 1968, and due to a series of catch
22’s, he found himself the victim of this draft while still attending school.
When he arrived at the induction center in Minneapolis, MN, he learned he had
been drafted by the Marine Corps. He completed boot camp and a combat tour in
Vietnam before returning to his hometown in Minnesota. He quickly grew restless
in that environment and reenlisted in the Marine Corps to regain the excitement
he had grown accustomed to. He retired from the Marine Corps a Gunnery Sergeant
in 1999.