Welcome To Vietnam

Chapter Fourteen

Sorry for all the bad luck our boys have had! This chapter will be hard, so just bare with me! Warning: torture & other dark themes. This chapter is rated M to be safe, but it's nothing TOO graphic.

My head hurts, my arms hurt, my legs hurt, everything hurts. Slowly, I open my eyes and try to remember where I am. I'm no longer in the jungle. I'm in a tiny dirt cell, tied to a chair. The only light is coming through a crack under the door and it flickers like a candle. The room smells like damp earth and stale air. I feel something trickle down the side of my face and know it's blood. How the hell did I get in a POW camp?! The last thing I remember is running... we were running...

It all floods back to me. Steve, Two-Bit, T-Bone, where are they? I hope they made it out and weren't somewhere in this hell hole with me. T-Bone gave the others some warning so there was a chance. If not... well I can't bring myself to think of the worst. I need to get through this and thinking like that wouldn't help.

I look again my surroundings. My wrists and ankles are tied to a wooden chair, painfully tight. I try to wiggle them around, but it's useless. The only thing that's doing is making the rope burn me. My long sleeve jacket is in a heap by the door with my shoes. My feet are bare so I can't run. At least the climate is comfortable down here. To the right of the cell is a rusty mattress frame nailed upright to the wall. I shudder when I think of what they use those for.

I'm trying to think of a futile escape plan when the door creaks open and two enemy soldiers walk in. They shut the door behind them. One is tall and looks to be in his mid-twenties or thirties while the other one is shorter and looks younger, at most twenty. The tall one looks expressionless, blank like this is just a job that he'd rather be over with quick. The other one is looking at me with an evil glint in his eye like torturing me was the highlight of his day.

The blank one spoke, "Today we welcome you to hell. There is no escape. You eat and you drink when we allow you. You do not ask question. We ask, you tell. Any questions?"

I smirk and give a half laugh, "Yeah, when the fuck do I get out of here?"

The short one punches me hard in the side and I gasp. That hurt! That rib has to be bruised now, if not broken. Darry always said I never used my head just like Steve always thought I was too mouthy for my own good. Who knew they'd both be right?

The short one said something in Vietnamese and the other translated. "You will learn, American. They all learn." Then he punched me a few more times until I was choking on air. My ribcage felt like it was lined with fire. Then, while I was subdued, they untied the ropes and dragged me towards the metal frame. I kicked and hit and cursed at them, but I was already weak from my head injury. I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink since the morning of the hike. I was guessing I'd been out at least a few hours since the ambush which would make this about the middle of the night if not the next morning. One tied my wrists to the frame while the other pinned me against the rusting metal springs. Then he moved down and tied my feet so that I made an X against the wall.

"Let me go, you bastards! I'm not going to tell you anything!" I shouted.

The short one grinned at me with a manic delight and clamped a heavy wire to the frame. Then he bent down to where the wire was connected, to an electrical box like a mobile generator. Oh crap! He turned the dial and my body went into spasms. My back arched, trying to escape the hot coils that were electrocuting me, but the ropes held me fast to it. I screamed. The voltage increased and I jerked even more, pain radiating through my body in waves. So much for the temperature, now I was sweating with the pain which only helped carry the current. A quick order in Vietnamese made it turn off and I collapsed, limply hanging from my binds. My body was weak and racked with pain.

"Have you learned respect, yet American?"

I will not break, I will not break. I clenched tight on my resolve, the only thing I had now. Through my teeth I hissed, "Fuck you."

Another high jolt went through me and I screamed again. I tried to hold it in, but it just tore out of me. The pain was unbearable. Every fiber of my body felt like it was being hit with lightening. They turned it off again and I collapsed, breathing heavy now. They untied me from the frame and dragged me back to the chair. I was too weak to fight them off so I just hung between them and was tied back to the chair. They left the room without another word. I heard another door creak open, perhaps a cell next to me. Dimly, I heard muffled cries of pain and I tried to block them out. There wasn't anything I could do to help him or even myself. My head lulled back and I fell into peaceful unconsciousness.

For what I guess was the next few days, they came in once to untie one wrist so I could have stale bread and water. Other times they would come in an interrogate me. Sometimes they asked questions that I would refuse to answer and sometimes they didn't ask me anything. I could usually tell which it would be by the expression on the shorter of my captures. Throughout the underground tunnels, I could hear screams of other men. I don't know how long we've really been here, but if I had the information they wanted it wouldn't be long before I broke. Luckily I didn't know any of what they wanted to know. That made me even more cocky, knowing that I was going to die anyway. I always had a smart comment to make rather than a real answer which only resulted in worse beatings, but the one thing they couldn't take away was my resolve. I would NOT break.

I looked up from the chair I was tied to when the cell door creaked on its rusty hinges, giving them a hard glare that showed no fear. The same two soldiers came in followed by one really big one. Judging from my past interrogations, I'm guessing the fun question game was over. The big guy was probably here to really torture me.

The nice one spoke in his quick English, ready to be done with me, "You answer questions, boy, or Big Jack will make you answer questions. Now, tell us location of your base camp."

I don't want to get beaten to a pulp, but I also will not give them what they want. So I croaked out, "You want base camp? I thought you already knew. After all, your spies sure enjoyed shooting up the place. Oh wait... I forgot they never had the chance to report back." Stupid, stupid, stupid! I really don't use my head when it counts.

Nice guy slapped me so hard I briefly saw stars. He didn't look so calm now. Hopefully his brother or somebody wasn't one of those who never came back. "You give us answer now! Big Jack not be so forgiving!" He relayed what I said to the others in their foreign tongue. They all looked mad now. Not good for me.

The mean one came up behind my hair and yanked my head up by my hair. I winced, but refused to cry out. He had a knife in the hand not threaded through my hair and put it right next to my eye. It was so close I could only see the sharp tip. Big Jack said something to him and he gave a short laugh and a reply. I didn't know what it was, but it gave me chills.

If they just killed me, I wouldn't have to go through torture. That seemed like a nicer option. I sounded defeated. "You want an answer? Okay. Base camp is about twenty feet up in Hell!" And I meant of course that the whole country above us was Hell. I heard a muffled shout from the cell next to me, but I imagined that the poor sap in there was gagged unlike me. He was either being interrogated himself or he was calling me an idiot and possibly trying to save my live by averting their attention. It wasn't the first time either, he always tried to shout out to me, especially when I was being interrogated. It never worked, whatever he was trying to do.

I was punched in the gut by the nice one and it knocked the wind out of me. Again and again. I heard a few cracks after I lost count and let out a scream. My ribs were already weak from the previous beatings. They enjoyed my weakness and he kicked me in the chest which caused the chair to fall back on its side. It hurt unbelievably, but I tried to suck in a few deep breaths so I wouldn't cry out. It sounded like I was gasping for breath, which at this point I was. I heard them talking again and they left me with Big Jack, closing the door behind them. This was bad.

He smiled down at me, making my hair stand on end. I knew what he was about to do and it was worse than torture, worse than death. Quickly, I try to scramble up an idea that could save me from this fate. He was slowly undoing his belt. No, don't think about him! Look around, Pony, look around. I knew he was going to have to untie me from the chair. Is there some way I can use that? If he unties my legs first, maybe I can stand up with the chair quick enough to use it as a shield or slam myself against the wall hard enough to break it and free my hands. He's undoing his top button. If he unties my hands first, maybe I could fight back? There wasn't much I could do to free myself with just hands while there is a six foot five guy trying to mess with me.

Big Jack comes towards me and uses his knife to undo the binds on my legs. I scream at him, "Don't you touch me!" He slaps me even harder than the nice one had earlier. I glare at him and growl, "Don't you fucking touch me, you fucking gook!" I kick at him and he punches me in the cracked ribs. I screech, "Goddamnit!" Without the air, it's harder to stand up and do anything I planned. That and he is keeping a hand clamped down on my shoulder as he worked on the binds on my arms. He freed me from the chair, but kept my hands bound behind my back. Then he forced me up from the chair and threw me to the ground. I rolled to my feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in my ribs. He made a grab for me and I danced back. "You fucker! I'm not going down without a fight!" I spit at him, knowing that he didn't understand any of my words.

He came at me with rage in his eyes. All his previous dark thoughts put on hold. He took a swing at my head which I managed to dodge and punched him hard in the gut. One thing about being big is, you're usually sacrifice agility. I would have sighed in relief at that being the case if I weren't fighting for my life at the moment. I kicked him in the groin while he was still struggling to breathe and he went down. That took care of that for the time being. I'd always been raised not to kick a man when he's down, but in this case I wasn't risking him getting back up. I kicked him in the head as hard as I could, but it didn't seem to faze him much. He grabbed my leg and yanked me down, trying to pin me as I fought to get away. During all this I could hear the gagged man in the next cell hollering up a storm and banging on the door, trying to catch as much attention as possible. I didn't understand why he was trying so hard to save me, but I guess if I heard someone fighting for their lives and not giving in to the bastards that caught us, I'd probably try to do the same.

Big Jack caught me again and wrapped his huge hands around my throat. I flailed around trying to find some leverage to knock him off, but he had at least one hundred pounds on me of pure muscle. I haven't eaten much since I've been down here and the beatings haven't done much for me either. The only sleep I got was when I was unconscious when they first brought me in. In summary, it didn't look good for me.

My head was swimming and my chest felt like it was about to burst. He was squeezing so tight that it was a wonder my head didn't pop off. My feet were still kicking and my hands were clawing at the ones on my throat, but every second it was weaker and weaker. My ears were buzzing, but through it I thought I heard a commotion down the hall. I heard foreign voices shout and- BAM- gunfire. My eyes were dimming in the already dim cell.

Suddenly, Big Jack jumped off me and tore off after the voices. I started choking on the air. It felt so good to breathe again even if it felt like I was breathing sandpaper. My door creaked open and I flinched, trying to get into a fighting position. At first I couldn't get my eyes to focus on the person and my hacking didn't help steady the world. The man wasn't Big Jack or the other two gooks, he was a vaguely familiar American soldier. He came towards me and quickly untied the ropes still around my wrists. I don't remember when or how I managed to get them in front of me, but I did put up a hell of a fight. I rasped out, "Steve!"

He wrapped me in a quick hug. "God, kid. I heard what they were doing to you and I tried really fucking hard to get them away from you. Sorry I couldn't help." I pulled back to look at him. He had a cloth gag hanging loose around his neck and bruises on his face. He was the soldier in the next room!

"Steve, not your fault. How?" It felt like gargling shrapnel to talk and I hope he understood my question. He was saying he didn't save me, so what was going on?

He looked to make sure the coast was clear in the dirt hallway before helping me onto my feet. "C'mon, kid. The fucking cavalry has arrived. Not a moment too soon, I might add." He looked at me with a strange mixture of relief and worry. I knew I must look like a mess, but I was glad he wasn't too badly hurt. I grabbed my jacket, hoping my letters were still in place and carefully shrugged it on. I stepped into my boots. He didn't let go once I was on my feet and instead draped my arm across his shoulders and supported me as we walked out into the hallway I'd never been in.

There were other soldiers here. Some looked fine and others were obvious prisoners. I noticed one guy from our unit being supported by our rescuers. He got caught a month before Steve and I. One eye was swollen completely shut, his arm hung limply at his side, his clothes were a tattered mess of dirt and blood, and he looked dead on his feet. The soldiers leading the mission hurried us along and we saved ten more guys. It was easy to tell the soldiers rescuing us from the soldiers captured now. The ones who were captured were beat up and had an edgy look in their eye like we couldn't believe this was real and that at any moment the gooks would come out and drag us back.

We made it out and the sunlight blinded everyone for a moment or two. Shots were still zipping by, but most of it was away on the other side of the compound. We were being led to the treeline and a safe distance from the mission in progress. We made it about half a mile to another group of survivors. There were about forty of us that had been saved and ten or fifteen that saved us. It must have been a huge POW camp. I collapsed and Steve leaned me against a tree where I promptly slid down. He looked concerned but I waved him off. My cracked ribs were on fire while my head was throbbing and it hurt to breathe, but I was okay. He asked if I was okay with his eyes, knowing I wouldn't respond verbally, and I nodded, closing my eyes. He looked away and scanned the crowd.

I thought about how I got here, the attack and the capturing. I was knocked out by the butt of a gun and dragged across the jungle floor while attending to- How could I have forgotten Two-Bit was shot right before we got taken? I grabbed Steve's arm, catching his full attention. "Two-Bit?" I asked.

He got a pained look in his eyes, making me think the worst, until he clarified, "I don't know, Pony. After you got hit, T dragged Two-Bit out of there while I covered for them. That's when they grabbed me, I was outnumbered. I'm sorry I left you, kid. I think I saw them hiding in the brush when they were dragging us out of there though. It wasn't a bad hit so I'm sure he was fine." Yeah, he could still get out of there with a bullet in the ass. He'd probably be laughing about it when we saw him again.

Seeing my relief, Steve patted my shoulder and went back to scanning the crowd. Some of the guys who were fighting on the ground level were filtering back. Steve jumped up and ran towards one of them. I couldn't see from my spot on the ground, but I had no intention of moving. He came trotting back with a familiar face not a minute later. I pushed myself up using the tree and was painfully tackled by my brother Sodapop. I hugged him back tightly, ignoring the loud protest of my ribs. Steve saw me wince though and gently pulled Soda back. My brother looked like he wanted to start bawling and I know I wanted to, but we didn't. I carefully leaned back against the tree and he looked me over, concerned.

"Are you okay, Pony?" I nodded. My destroyed voice would only worry him more and I'm sure my overprotective brothers would already be flipping out over my captor. Sure enough, I saw the anger in his eyes. "I hate this goddamn war! They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" I shook my head and closed my eyes again. I felt safe again with my brother there and my head hurt.

I felt soft probing hands on my throat and opened them again to see Soda near tears again, looking at my throat. It was probably bruised to hell and back. "My god, Pony! What'd they do to you, little brother?" His voice was soft and choked like he was fighting back a lump in his throat. I knew I couldn't tell him so I shook my head again, hoping he got that I wasn't going to talk about it.

Steve caught that too and he answered for me, "You don't wanna know, buddy. You don't even wanna know." He saw another soldier and waved him over. Darry ran over and was about to hug Steve until he saw me and got me first. He wrapped me in a big hug that made me gasp in pain. I didn't mind it, but he pulled back instantly sorry. I shook my head and said with my eyes 'it's alright.' He nodded and hugged me more gently this time, silent tears running down his eyes while he stroked my hair. So my big tough brother broke down before Soda...

The man in charge yelled, "Alright let's move out!" Another squad of men returned with even more POW's. There had to be at least a hundred of us. I heard a loud BOOM and looked back to see the base exploding in flames. We all cheered, not caring about the noise. Our prison was now little more than ash and memory. That was the best thing I'd seen all war.

The men helped out the wounded as we trudged forward through the jungle. Darry and Soda supporting me on both sides and Steve right behind us. We marched a few miles and came to a clearing. A team went out and declared it mine free. The communications officer radioed in a dust-off and deemed the mission a success. Over a hundred POW's rescued, few to none casualties on our side. It was a good day.

We rested as we waited for the choppers. I was surrounded by my brothers and finally felt safe. In the cell, I'd jump at every noise thinking they came back to torture me. Now I was safe and I knew that nothing could touch me. I leaned my head on Soda's shoulder and closed my eyes. This time, it was a peaceful sleep that I knew I would awake from. There was a light, caring pressure on my hair and sleep took me. Not even the whirl of the choppers could wake me.

Don't hate me lol! Everything is going to just fine from here... most likely xD We've gotten through the worst of it. Thank you and please review!