Strange Highways

     "Zacharia," Chase said, although he had often sworn never to mention that name again or to remember the man attached to it or, indeed, to recall the events that the man had perpetrated.
     "Hate," Fauvel persisted.
     "Another word, please."
     "No. Hate."
     "Lieutenant Zacharia."
     "It goes deeper than Zacharia."
     "I know."
     "Hate."
     "Me," Chase said.
     "And that's the truth, isn't it?"
     "Yes." After a silence, the doctor said, "Okay, let's back up from you to Zacharia. Do you remember what Lieutenant Zacharia ordered you to do, Benjamin?"
     "Yes, sir."
     "What were those orders?"
     "We'd sealed off two back entrances to a Cong tunnel system."
     "And?"
     "Lieutenant Zacharia ordered me to clear the last entrance."
     "How did you accomplish that?"
     "With a grenade, sir."
     "And?"
     "And then before the air around the tunnel face could clear, I went forward."
     "And?"
     "And used a machine gun."
     "Good."
     "Not so good, sir."
     "Good that you can at least talk about it."
     Chase was silent.
     "What happened then, Benjamin?"
     "Then we went down, sir."
     "We?"
     "Lieutenant Zacharia, Sergeant Coombs, Privates Halsey and Wade, a couple of other men."
     "And you."
     "Yeah. Me."
     "Then?"
     "In the tunnel, we found four dead men and parts of men lying in the foyer of the complex. Lieutenant Zacharia ordered a cautious advance. A hundred fifty yards along, we came to a bamboo gate."
     "Blocking the way.
     "Yeah. Villagers behind it."
     "Tell me about the villagers."
     "Mostly women."
     "How many women, Ben?"
     "Maybe twenty."
     "Children?" Fauvel asked.
     Silence was a refuge.
     "Were there children?"
     Chase sank down in the heavy padding of the armchair, shoulders drawn up as if he wished to hide between them. "A few."
     "They were imprisoned there?"
     "No. The bamboo was an obstacle. The Cong tunnels ran a lot deeper than that, a lot farther. We hadn't even reached the weapons cache. The villagers were assisting the Vietcong, collaborating with them, obstructing us."
     "Do you think they were forced to obstruct you, forced by the Vietcong ... or were they willing agents of the enemy?"
     Chase was silent.
     "I'm waiting for an answer," Fauvel said sternly.
     Chase didn't reply.
      "You are waiting for an answer," Fauvel told him, "whether you realize it or not. Were these villagers being forced to obstruct your advance, forced at gunpoint by the Cong in the tunnels behind them, or were they there at their own choice?"
     "Hard to say."
     "Is it?"
     "Hard for me, anyway."
     "In those situations you could never be sure."
     "Right."
     "They might have been collaborationists - or they might have been innocent."
     "Right."
     "Okay. Then what happened?"
     "We tried to open the gate, but the women were holding it shut with a system of ropes."
     "Women."
     "They used women as a shield. Or sometimes the women were the worst killers of all, cut you down with a smile."
     "So you ordered them out of the way?" Fauvel asked.
     "They wouldn't move. The lieutenant said it might be a trap designed to contain us at that point, delay us long enough for the Cong to somehow get behind us."
     "Could that have been true?"
     "Could have been."
     "Likely?"
     "Yes."
     "Go on."
     "It was dark. There was a smell in that tunnel I can't explain, made up of sweat and urine and rotting vegetables, as heavy as if it had substance. Lieutenant Zacharia ordered us to open fire and clear the way."
     "Did you comply?"
     Chase was silent.
     "Did you comply?"
     "Not immediately."
     "But eventually?"
     "The stench ... the darkness ..."
     "You complied."
     "So claustrophobic down there, Cong probably coming around behind us through a secret tunnel."
     "So you complied with the order?"
     "Yes."
     "You personally - or the squad?"
     "The squad and me. Everyone did."
     "You shot them."
     "Cleared the