“I smell the corrupt stench of politics in this courtroom.”
His accuser gazes upon the major, the very image of a Green Beret commando: six foot four, two-hundred- twenty-pound body hard as a side of beef, blond flattop, bronze face, and a voice that sounds like thunder. And he has those eyes, eyes like blue crystal that can see straight into your soul; when he locks those eyes on you, it’s as if you’re looking at Jesus Christ himself, his men say. They call themselves his disciples.
The major locks his eyes on the court-martial panel.
“When we bombed Germany into rubble in World War Two, we killed thirty-five thousand German civilians in Dresden alone. When we bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki, we killed three hundred thousand Japanese civilians. But we did not cry over their deaths. We did not court-martial the pilots who dropped the bombs or the generals who ordered the bombing. We honored them as heroes. We gave them medals and parades. We put a general in the White House.
“But this war, I am told, is different. This war is unpopular with the people. To which I say, so fucking what! Since when did this man’s Army give a good goddamn what civilians think? Do you care what that lawless mob of malcontents protesting outside the gates to this Army base, burning the American flag you and I swore to defend, thinks? The soldiers fighting and dying at this very moment in Vietnam are not defending those civilians. They are defending this country! And I’m not about to let a buncha draft-dodging dopers tell me when and where and who I can kill to defend this country!
“And, I’m also told, this war is immoral, ugly, brutal, and evil. To which I say, yes, it is. Just like every other war this country has ever fought. War, gentlemen, is not pretty or neat or nice or humane fare fit for the evening news. War is ugly. Brutal. Inhumane. Evil. And necessary for the survival of the Free World!”
He points at the window.
“That mob wants America to lose in Vietnam. That mob wants to bring down the American military. We-you and I and this Army-cannot let that happen! We must not let that happen! For if we do, if we let that mob destroy this Army, the world will no longer fear America. Now, we can live in a world that does not love America. We can even live in a world that hates America. But, gentlemen, we cannot live in a world that does not fear America. We cannot live in a world that thinks it can fuck with America. Because once every piss-ant dictator, rebel, warlord, and terrorist thinks he can fuck with America, he will! Gentlemen, I am on trial, but it is not the future of Major Charles Woodrow Walker that is at stake today. It is the future of the United States Army. It is the future of America.
“I stand accused of murder by an Army that cowers before politicians, politicians who have never fought a war but who enjoy the freedom war brings- the freedom we give them! — politicians trying to win an election by appeasing that mob. I, gentlemen, am trying to win a war! To defeat Communism and preserve peace and prosperity for the United States of America!”
The major removes his coat. He unbuttons his left sleeve. He rolls the sleeve up. He shows the panel the Viper tattoo imprinted on his bicep. And he translates the Vietnamese words for them: “ ‘We kill for peace.’ By God, if this country is going to enjoy peace and prosperity, we damn well better be ready to kill for it!”
The major now points at his accuser.
“Since Truman betrayed MacArthur, every soldier at West Point knows that politicians will always betray the military. We expect that. But we don’t expect betrayal by one of our own, by a fellow member of the Corps. Just as Jesus Christ had Judas Iscariot, so too do I have Lieutenant Ben Brice. He betrayed me. He betrayed you. He betrayed his Army. He betrayed his country.
“Did we kill those gooks? You goddamn right we did! And I will kill every gook in Vietnam if that’s what it takes to win that war! To defeat Communism! As God is my witness, I don’t regret killing those forty-two gooks! My only regret is that I didn’t put a bullet in Lieutenant Brice’s head, too!”
Ben’s thoughts were jolted back to the present when the Land Rover bounced hard.
“Now there’s a motive-revenge.”
Agent Jan Jorgenson turned to the last page of the article. Major Walker and the nine other Green Berets were acquitted of murder but found guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer, stripped of their rank, and dishonorably discharged from the Army.
Did Walker abduct Gracie Ann Brice for revenge against Colonel Brice? And who is Major Charles Woodrow Walker? And where is he now?
The big man named Jacko was saying, “I remember one time, me and the major, we got these two VC up in the chopper, five hundred feet off the deck. The major’s interrogating them-where’s your base camp, how many men, and so on. The one gook, he keeps saying, ‘Doo Mommie,’ which means ‘fuck your mama’ in Viet. Well, the major finally got his fill, so he grabs the dink and throws his ass right out the door. We hear him screaming all the way down. Then the major grabs the other dink-that sumbitch pisses hisself. And he talks, gives us the coordinates of their base camp. We called in the B-52s the next morning. They wiped that camp and about five hundred gooks off the face of the earth.”
Jacko smiled like he was remembering his last birthday party.
“You lived for those days.”
Junior said, “What’d you do with the other gook?”
“Oh, we threw him out, too. Five-hundred-foot dive into a rice paddy.”
Jacko now had a faraway look on his face, like Sylvia when she talked of her old country.
“Best years of my life. Hell, killing, drinking, and fucking-to an Okie from Henryetta, Vietnam wasn’t no war, it was a goddamned vacation.” He shook his head. “Politicians fucked up a pretty good war.”
They were sitting in a McDonald’s drive-through waiting for their order. Gracie was listening. Junior was wide-eyed.
“Gosh, I love to hear them stories,” he said.
Jacko said, “Course, when McNamara and Johnson sent in the draftees and the war became a goddamn TV show back home, I knew my Oriental vacation was coming to an end. But I didn’t know my Army career was coming to an end when Viper team humped into the Quang Tri province that day in ’68 or when we humped out that night. I just followed the major in and followed the major out and in between we wasted some gooks. Just another day in paradise. But the Army sacrificed Viper team to the mob.” He sucked on his cigarette, blew out smoke, and said, “Because Lieutenant Ben Brice couldn’t keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.”
“Why didn’t the major kill Brice after he ratted you out?”
“After the court-martial, CIA hired us to greenback in Cambodia-CIA, they don’t give a shit about politics.” He chuckled. “With SOG, the major reported to the president. With the CIA, he reported to no one. Anyway, Brice, he was a native by then, living in the zoo with the Yards. After the war, he just disappeared.”
Junior handed a white bag back to Gracie. She had ordered a Big Mac, fries, and milk. Mother never let her eat fast food.
Jacko said back to her: “Where’s your grandpa been living?”
Gracie thought that if she told the truth, maybe they’d turn around and drive to Taos, which would be better than wherever they were going now. And she knew Ben wasn’t at the cabin anyway.
“Taos.”
“The hell’s he doing in Taos?”
“He makes furniture-rocking chairs, tables, desks. They’re awesome. Movie stars buy his stuff.”
Jacko thought that was funny. “Green Beret making rocking chairs for movie stars.”
“Like who?” Junior asked.
Gracie didn’t answer him. Instead, she said, “Let’s go to Taos. I’ll take you to his cabin.”
Jacko snorted. “I think I’ll wait for him to come to me.”
“Scared, huh? You know, you guys ought to pull over and let me out before he catches up with you.”
“Shut up, you little whore!”
Gracie wasn’t sure what that word meant, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment. Before she could defend herself, Junior did.
“Don’t call her that! She ain’t no whore!”
Junior was giving Jacko a real mean face, like Ronnie down the street that day she had beaten him up.
“She started it! Tell her to shut up! You want a woman in your life, that’s what you get-a fuckin’ mouth won’t
