Rescue

finished. “My God, no.“
    “I’m afraid so.“
    Howard had finished his two halves of pastry, pushing the empty plate to the side, more for something to do, I thought, than to gain any space. “We heard about the Adair girl on the news, but they didn’t give any details. That’s pretty... strong, John.“
    “I know it’s hard to believe, but—“
    Howard said, “I believe you.“
    I turned toward him.
    He said, “I’ve watched that Reverend Wyeth on television. Not because I’m interested in religion so much, or his in particular. Just because he had his operation here on Mercy, and I thought I should know something about him. I didn’t much like what I saw. And heard.“
    “What do you mean?“
    “He reminded me of the newsreels from the thirties. We’d see them in the movie theaters, Saturday afternoons. The ones from Berlin.“
    I said, “Not exactly, but close. That where the forty-five came from?“
    “No. I was in the South Pacific. First Marines.“
    “Guadalcanal?“
    Howard paused, then nodded, his eyes growing sad. “Got there in ‘forty-two. Seven August. Did demolition work, mostly. I was a green lieutenant, my men greener. They had old, bolt-action Springfields. Even so, the Japanese couldn’t heat us, but the malaria nearly did. When the Army first landed to relieve us in October, I could have kissed them. Americal Division, with the new-for-then M-1s.“ He looked up at me, his eyes suddenly sadder. “When we talked at the boatyard last week... You were in Vietnam?“
    “One tour.“
    Doris said, “When?“
    “Late sixties, mostly Saigon as an MP.“
    She looked down at her dessert. “I thought it might have b een earlier.“
    “Earlier?“
    In the command voice, Howard said, “Our son, Mike, was in the first of the Seventh.“
    “The la Drang Valley?“
    “Yes.“
    Now the Custer remark and cavalry reaction made sense. The first battalion of the Seventh Cavalry was part of the First Cavalry Division (Airmobile). Renamed in the States after Custer’s regiment before shipping over, the unit was in the initial major battle in 1965 between American combat troops and North Vietnamese regulars.
    Howard folded his hands in front of him on the tablecloth, then spoke to them quietly. “Mike wanted to serve, but not in the Marines, because I was still on active duty, and he didn’t want anybody to think he was getting a break because of being a colonel’s son. So he went into the Army before college, figured he’d see some of the world before settling down to his studies.“ Howard looked up at me. “Mike was going to be a writer. He would have been a good one, too, from the letters he sent us.“ The eyes were back to the hands. “From Fort Benning, about how his airmobile—they called it ‘air assault7 then—about how his training was going, the sounds of the helicopter blades reminding him of his mother saying ‘Whup, whup, whup’ whenever as a little boy he’d hold something fragile. Mike wrote letters from his troop ship, too, as they sailed through the Panama Canal. And from Vietnam itself, how proud he was to be going into combat with ‘three-war men,’ meaning sergeants who’d served in my war and Korea beforehand.“
    Howard settled in his chair, his shoulders a little straighten “It was Sunday, fourteen November, nineteen-hundred-sixty-five. Ia means ‘river’ in one of the languages over there. I got that from the book his battalion commander wrote with that war correspondent. We Were Soldiers Once... and Young. You read it?“
    “No, I haven’t.“
    “You might want to.“ An abrupt nod. “Mike’s company commander wrote me a letter afterwards. I still remember the second paragraph. ‘Your son was wounded twice in the battle. Despite his injuries, he was able during a lull in the fighting to guide three other casualties from his platoon back through the elephant grass to the landing zone, nearly carrying one of the men. As a chopper arrived near a termite hill, Mike tried to get one of his wounded friends onto his feet. Your son was shot from behind and killed instantly. He was a fine soldier and one of my best men. I shall miss him.’ “
    Howard looked back at me. “The news itself came from an Army lieutenant driving up to my office, olive drab sedan. I saw him out my window, and I knew. In my war, the news came by telegram, and I remember Doris telling me when I got back that wives and parents wouldn’t answer the door if a knock