My first story, English is my second language, please, be kind and patient.

DISCLAIMER: I suppose I have to say that these are not my characters, but I praise those who conceived them.


NO PRAYERS TO UTTER, NO TEARS TO SHED

The day was just beginning but the activities in the Base Camp were already on their way. Men in uniform walked or ran up and down the place; some marched on early morning maneuvers and others kept busy loading and unloading trucks. Hannibal walked to the helipad, counting mentally the men he would carry for that day's mission; five in total, plus his Special Forces unit. He got them at sight and then, he went to smoke the last six minutes to departure.

"Not a cloud in the sky," Face leaned back on the driver's seat of his '53 Cadillac.

"It'll rain in the afternoon," Murdock replied from the back row where he was lying down; his long legs stretched all the way over the seats and on the opposite door. He kept his face hid under his baseball cap. That was his way to unplug and everybody respected his privacy.

Face glanced at him and shook his head. They had had a rough night. Face had heard Murdock tossing and turning but he did not get up to check on him because Hannibal and Ray were already at it. Despite his curiosity Face would not dare to ask Murdock about what happened.

He turned back to the front to watch the Huey, waiting for them. BA kept walking around it as though he were responsible of putting the chopper in good shape. "BA looks calm today."

"So far so good." Murdock exhaled. "The chief crew told me BA stuck with him while checking over the chopper. He made all kind of questions. He almost asked him to look down the hood." Both men laughed. Then, Murdock went serious again. "It's good to be back with you guys. I like Special Forces."

"Where were you last week? You never told me."

There was a long pause accompanied with a deep sigh. "Dust Offs."

Face did not need to turn around to guess that the captain was still truggling to kick off some bad memories.

"On Monday, we had Bouncing Bettys here and there, six KIA in one hour…On Wednesday, a damn VC girl bled to death on the floor of my chopper… Thursday, a newbie stepped on the wrong place and we had to took 'im down the trees… he was still smoking when they put 'im on my chopper. It stunk of barbeque all the way back to Base Camp." He sniffed as though remembering the stench. "The rest of the week, I loaded and unloaded body bags. My arms still hurt."*

Face could imagine the scenarios. He had been in-country long enough to have seen all that and worse first hand. The experience varied only on the way each one took it. In a reduce unit like theirs, seeking for moral support was easy. Colonel Smith would listen and give words of wisdom and that always made Face feel better. BA would also take Hannibal's advice and when that was not enough, he would simply go to the nearest bar to pick up a good fight.

As much as they liked to think so, Murdock was not always with them. He was an Aircraft Commander, he was on his own most of the time. They would only know what he wanted them to know and sometimes, he did not talk at all. It was hard to tell how he handled the stress. He seemed doing just fine, except maybe for the times when got high or drunk, or both.

"Face?" Murdock called after a long pause. "Do me a favor."

"Sure."

"Don't die today."

Face chuckled as he thought Murdock was making a joke.

"Promise, Peck. No dying today, not you or BA or the colonel, okay?" His voice trembled. "Okay?"

"Okay, okay. No dying today. Geez-," Face turned to see him but the captain had already jumped out the car.

Murdock walked towards his chopper and gave a thumb up to the colonel. Hannibal signed BA who shouted to the troops to get up and on the helicopter. A new mission had begun.

the end


* bouncing betties: Type of mine that shot up a charge four feet in the air when someone tripped on the wires, the first explosion would cause injuries, the second was likely to be fatal.

KIA: Killed In Action

VC: Viet Cong