theme park, got arrested an put on trial for swindling millions of people, was responsible for the greatest single maritime environmental disaster of the world, an somehow managed to put an end to communism in Europe. All in all, I’d say you’ve had a fair few years.”
“Yup,” I says, “that’s about the size of it.”
All the while, Lieutenant Dan has been tryin to improve hissef. At first he done almost give up when he got to Walter Reed, but the doctors finally persuaded him he had a few more good years left. He got his army pension bidness straightened out, an so he don’t quite have to live from hand to mouth anymore. He traveled around for a while, mostly on military aircraft, which the pension entitles him to do, an which is also how he got here to Saudi Arabia.
One time a while back, he says, he was in New Orleans, just to take in the sights from the days when we lived there an to get him some good oysters on the half shell. He says that unlike most places, it ain’t changed a whole lot. One day he was settin in Jackson Square, where I used to play my one-man band, when lo an behole, along comes a ape that he recognized as Sue. Sue had been supportin hissef by kinda taggin along behind the fellers that was singin or dancin for money in the streets, an had learned to do a little dance hissef. Then, when everbody done thowed enough money in the tin cups, Sue would grap what he thought was his share an haul ass.
Anyhow, the two of them teamed up, an Sue would push Dan around town in a little grocery cart, account of his artificial legs still bothered him pretty much, although he still carries them around.
“If I need em, I’ll put em on,” Dan says, “but frankly it’s easier just sittin on my ass.”
“I still don’t understand why you is here,” I says.
“Cause it’s a war goin on, Forrest. My family ain’t missed a war in nine generations, an I ain’t gonna be the one to change that record.”
Lieutenant Dan says he knows he is technically unfit for military service, but he is sort of hangin around, waitin for his chance to do somethin useful.
When he finds out I’m with a mechanized armored outfit, he is overjoyed.
“That’s just what I need—transportation! Legs or no legs, I can kill A-rabs good as anybody else” is how he puts it.
Anyway, we gone over to the Casbah, or whatever they call it, an got Sue a banana, an me an Lieutenant Dan ate soup that had toad larva or somethin in it. “Y’know,” he says, “I sure wish these A-rabs had some oysters, but I bet there ain’t one within a thousand miles of here.”
“What?” I ast. “A-rabs?”
“No, you stupo, oysters,” says Dan.
In any case, by the end of the afternoon Dan had talked me into takin him back to my tank company. Before I took him in the compound, I gone to the quartermaster an drawn two more sets of fatigue uniforms, one for Dan an one for Sue. I am figgerin it might take some explainin about ole Sue, but that we would give it a try, anyhow.
As it turned out, nobody much give a shit that Lieutenant Dan has joined us. In fact, some fellers are glad to have him around, since besides Sergeant Kranz an me, he is the only other person in our outfit to have had any real combat experience. Whenever he is in public, Dan now wears the artificial legs, just suckin it up when they hurt him. Says it ain’t military to go crawlin around or ridin in a cart. Also, most of the fellers taken a shine to Sue, who has turned into quite a scrounger. Whatever we need to have to steal from somebody else, Sue is the man for the job.
Ever night we set out in front of our tent an watch the Scud missiles that Saddamn Hussein is shooting at us. Most of the time, they is blowed up in the air by our own missiles, an it is all like a big fireworks show, with occasional accidents.
One day the battalion commander come around an call us all together.
“Arright, men,” he says. “Tomorrow we gonna saddle up. At dawn, all our jet planes an missiles an artillery an everthin else in our grab bag gonna open up on the A-rabs. Then our asses is gonna hit em so hard in our tanks they will think ole Allah himself has come back to do them in. So get some rest. You gonna be needin it for the next few days.”
That night I walked out away from camp a little bit, right to the edge of the desert. I have never seen a sky so clear as over the desert—seemed like every star in the heaven was shinin brighter than ever before. I begun to say a little prayer that nothin would happen to me in the battle, cause for the first time in my life, I got a responsibility to take care of.
That day, I had got a letter from Mrs. Curran, sayin she was gettin too ole an sick to take care of little Forrest. She says she is gonna have to go in the rest home pretty soon, an she is puttin her house up for sale, account of the rest home won’t take her unless she’s dead broke. Little Forrest, she says, “is gonna have to go live with the state or somethin, until I can figger out what else to do.” He is just startin to be a teenager, she says, an is a fine-lookin boy, but is kind of wild sometimes. She say he makes some extra money on weekends by thumbin over to the casinos in Mississippi an countin cards at the blackjack tables, but that most of the casinos done kicked him out, account of he is so smart he can beat them at their own game.
“I really feel sorry about this,” Mrs. Curran writes, “but there’s nothing else I can do. I’m sure you’ll come home soon, Forrest, and everything will be okay.”
Well, I feel pretty sorry for Mrs. Curran, too. She done all she could. But my heart don’t feel good that I can do anythin to help, even if I do get home in one piece. I mean, look at my record so far. Anyway, I am thinkin about all this when all of a sudden from out of the desert, a kind of whirlwind comes blowin up toward me. It whirled an blew under the clear desert stars, an then, before I knowed it, there was Jenny, shimmerin in the sand an wind. I am so glad to see her after all this time, I am about to bust.
“Well,” she says, “looks like you’ve done it again, huh?”
“Done what?”
“Got your ass in a sling. Aren’t you gonna go out an fight the A-rabs tomorrow?”
“Yup, that’s what the orders are.”
“What if something happens to you?”
“What happens, happens,” I said.
“And little Forrest?”
“I been thinkin about that.”
“Yeah, I know. But you don’t have any plan, do you?”
“Not yet. I gotta get outta this mess, first.”
“I know that, too. And I can’t tell you what’s gonna happen, cause it’s against the rules. But I will tell you one thing, though. Stick with Lieutenant Dan. And listen to him. Listen real carefully.”
“Oh, I will,” I says. “He is the best combat leader there is.”
“Well, just pay attention to him, okay?”
I nodded, an then Jenny sort of begun to disappear in the whirlwind. I wanted to call her back, but her face begun to fade, an she says somethin else that was very faint, but I heard it.
“That German girl—I like her.” Jenny’s voice is almost gone. “She’s got spirit, and a good heart…”
I tried to say somethin, but my words caught up in my throat, an then the whirlwind gone on its way, an I am left alone under the desert sky.
I ain’t never seen nothin like what I saw next dawn, an I hope I don’t ever see it again.
Far as the eye could see out in the desert, from horizon to horizon, our tanks an personnel carriers an mechanized guns is lined up in all directions. All the motors is runnin so’s the sound from half a million men an machines is like one big constant growl from a giant tiger. A mad giant tiger.
At daybreak the order is given to move forward an kick Saddamn Hussein’s A-rabs’ asses out of Kuwait. An that’s what we done.
Me an Sergeant Kranz, who has now been promoted to corporal, an Lieutenant Dan are in command of one of the tanks. Also, we has brought ole Sue along for good luck. Now, these tanks is not at all like the tanks we had in Vietnam, which were as simple to run as a tractor. But that was twenty-five years ago. Nosiree, these tanks look like the inside of a spaceship, with all sorts of computers an calculators an electrical stuff flashin an beepin.
