Forrest Gump

song.

I hadn’t noticed it, but it had quit rainin an the sky done turned a awful pinkish color. It made everbody’s face look like death itsef, an for some reason, the gooks done quit shootin for a wile, an so had we. I played “Way Down Upon the Swanee River” over an over again, kneelin nex to Bubba wile the medic give him a shot an tend to him best he could. Bubba done grapped a holt to my leg an his eyes got all cloudy an that terrible pink sky seem to drain all the color in his face.

He was tryin to say somethin, an so I bent over real close to hear what it was. But I never coud make it out. So I axed the medic, “You hear what he say?” An the medic say, “Home. He said, home.” Bubba, he died, an that’s all I got to say bout that.

The rest of the night was the worst I have ever known. They was no way they could get any hep to us, since it begun stormin again. Them gooks was so close we could hear them talkin with each other, an at one point it was han to han fightin in the 1st platoon. At dawn, they call in a napalm airplane, but it drop the shit damn near right on top of us. Our own fellers be all singed an burnt up—come runnin out into the open, eyes big as biscuits, everbody cussin an sweatin an scared, woods set on fire, damn near put the rain out!

Somewhere in all this, I got mysef shot, an, as luck would have it, I was hit in the ass. I can’t even remember it. We was all in awful shape. I don’t know what happened. Everthing all fouled up. I jus left the machine gun. I didn’t give a shit no more. I went to a place back of a tree an jus curl up an start cryin. Bubba gone, srimp boat gone; an he the only friend I ever had—cept maybe Jenny Curran, an I done mess that up too. Wadn’t for my mama, I might as well of jus died right there—of ole age or somethin, whatever—it didn’t matter.

After a wile, they start landin some relief in heliocopters, and I guess the napalm bomb have frightened away the gooks. They must of figgered that if we was willing to do that to ourselfs, then what the hell would we of done to them?

They takin the wounded outta there, when along come Sergeant Kranz, hair all singed off, clothes burnt up, looking like he jus got shot out of a cannon. He say, “Gump, you done real good yesterday, boy,” an then he axe me if I want a cigarette.

I say I don’t smoke, an he nod. “Gump,” he says, “you are not the smartest feller I have ever had, but you is one hell of a soldier. I wish I had a hundrit like you.”

He axe me if it hurt, an I say no, but that ain’t the truth. “Gump,” he say, “you is goin home, I guess you know that.”

I axe him where is Bubba, an Sergeant Kranz look at me kind of funny. “He be along directly,” he says. I axed if I can ride on the same heliocopter with Bubba, an Sergeant Kranz say, no, Bubba got to go out last, cause he got kilt.

They had stuck me with a big needle full of some kind of shit that made me feel better, but I remember, I reached up an grapped Sergeant Kranz by the arm, an I say, “I ain’t never axed no favors afore, but would you put Bubba on the heliocopter yoursef, an make sure he get there okay?”

“Sure, Gump,” he say. “What the hell—we will even get him accommodations in first class.”

7

I was at the hospital at Danang for most of two months. So far as a hospital went, it were not much, but we slep on cots with mosquito nets, an they was wooden plank floors that was swep clean twice a day, which was more than you can say for the kind of livin I’d got used to.

They was some people hurt far worst than I was in that hospital, let me tell you. Po ole boys with arms an legs an feet an hans an who knows what else missin. Boys what had been shot in they stomachs an chests an faces. At night the place sound like a torture chamber—them fellers be howlin and cryin an callin for they mamas.

They was a guy nex to my cot name of Dan, who had been blowed up inside a tank. He was all burnt an had tubes goin in an out of him everplace, but I never heard him holler. He talk real low an quiet, an after a day or so, him an me got to be friends. Dan come from the state of Connecticut, an he were a teacher of history when they grapped him up an thowed him into the Army. But cause he was smart, they sent him to officer school an made him a lieutenant. Most of the lieutenants I knowed was bout as simple-minded as me, but Dan were different. He have his own philosophy bout why we was there, which was that we was doin maybe the wrong thing for the right reasons, or visa-versa, but whatever it is, we ain’t doin it right. Him bein a tank officer an all, he say it rediculous for us to be wagin a war in a place where we can’t hardly use our tanks on account of the land is mostly swamp or mountains. I tole him bout Bubba an all, an he nod his head very sadly an say they will be a lot more Bubbas to die afore this thing is over.

After bout a week or so, they move me to another part of the hospital where everbody be put so’s they can get well, but ever day I gone back to the tensive care ward an set for a wile with Dan. Sometimes I played him a tune on my harmonica, which he like very much. My mama had sent me a package of Hershey bars which finally catch up to me at the hospital an I wanted to share them with Dan, cept he can’t eat nothin but what goin into him thru the tubes.

I think that settin there talkin to Dan was a thing that had a great impression on my life. I know that bein a idiot an all, I ain’t sposed to have no philosophy of my own, but maybe it’s just because nobody never took the time to talk to me bout it. It were Dan’s philosophy that everythin that happen to us, or for that matter, to anythin anywhere, is controlled by natural laws that govern the universe. His views on the subject was extremely complicated, but the gist of what he say begun to change my whole outlook on things.

All my own life, I ain’t understood shit about what was goin on. A thing jus happen, then somethin else happen, then somethin else, an so on, an haf the time nothin makin any sense. But Dan say it is all part of a scheme of some sort, an the best way we can get along is figger out how we fits into the scheme, an then try to stick to our place. Somehow knowin this, things get a good bit clearer for me.

Anyhow, I’s gettin much better in the next weeks, an my ass heal up real nice. Doctor say I got a hide like a “rhinoceros” or somethin. They got a rec room at the hospital an since they wadn’t much else to do, I wandered over there one day an they was a couple of guys playin ping-pong. After a wile, I axed if I could play, an they let me. I lost the first couple of points, but after a wile, I beat both them fellers. “You shore is quick for such a big guy,” one of them say. I jus nod. I tried to play some ever day an got quite good, believe it or not.

In the afternoons I’d go see Dan, but in the mornins I was on my own. They let me leave the hospital if I wanted, an they was a bus what took fellers like me into the town so’s we could walk aroun an buy some of the shit they sold in the gook shops in Danang. But I don’t need any of that, so I jus walk aroun, taking in the sights.

They is a little market down by the waterfront where folks sells fish an srimp an stuff, an one day I went down there an bought me some srimp an one of the cooks at the hospital boil em for me an they sure was good. I wished ole Dan could of ate some. He say maybe if I squash em up they could put em down his tube. He say he gonna axe the nurse about it, but I know he jus kiddin.

That night I be lyin on my cot thinkin of Bubba an how much he might of liked them srimp too, an about our srimp boat an all. Po ole Bubba. So the next day I axed Dan how is it that Bubba can get kilt, an what kind of haf-assed nature law would allow that. He think bout it for a wile, an say, “Well, I’ll tell you, Forrest, all of these laws are not specially pleasing to us. But they is laws nonetheless. Like when a tiger pounce on a monkey in the jungle—bad for the monkey, but good for the tiger. That is jus the way it is.”

Couple of days later I gone on back to the fish market an they is a little gook sellin a big bag of srimp there. I axed him where he got them srimp, an he start jabberin away at me, count of he don’t understan English. Anyway, I make sign language like a Indian or somethin, an after a wile he catch on, an motion for me to follow him. I be kind of leary at first, but he smilin an all, an so’s I do.

We must of walked a mile or so, past all the boats on the beach an everthin, but he don’t take me to a boat. It is a little place in a swamp by the water, kind of a pond or somethin, an he got wire nets laid down where the water from the China Sea come in at high tide. That sumbitch be growin srimp in there! He took a little net an scoop up some water an sure enough, ten or twelve srimp in it. He give me some in a little bag, an I give him a Hershey bar. He so happy he could shit.