AN: 1966.  The US has sent over 300,000 troops to the war in Vietnam.  On the home front, tensions are mounting, as support for the War continues to diminish.  President Johnson makes his first trip to South Vietnam, and the Soviet Union announces its intentions to support North Vietnam, arousing anger among war supporters and moderates. 

As for our favorite sextet, Monica, Rachel and Phoebe are seniors in high school.  Ross, Chandler and Joey have just graduated high school (Joey and Chandler went to a different school, though).  Rachel and Ross are dating.

~The Age of Aquarius~

Chapter Five: Fortunate Son

South Vietnam

Ross jumped off of the helicopter, and looked around nervously.  Nothing could have prepared him for the dankness that consumed him: the humidity was almost unbearable. Thick foliage surrounded the large camp in every direction.  In a small clearing, sat several small tents, and a large fire. He walked toward one of the Army green tents, his eyes wide with a mixture of wonder and fear.

"Geller," the lieutenant standing in front of him called suddenly.

"Sir," Ross stood at attention and saluted.  Inside, the scientist in him smirked, as the word Pavlovian came to mind.

"Captain wants to see you in the admin tent…that way," the lieutenant pointed at a tent that sat on the eastern side of the camp.

Ross nodded, and made his way into the tent.

"Sir, you wanted to see me sir?" Ross asked.

"Geller, thank God you're here.  I've looked at your file, and noted that you have a skill that we are in dire need of."

Ross smiled slightly, as images of his hero's welcome back home played in his head.

"Our last registrar was killed three weeks ago," the Captain continued.

"Sir?" Ross asked, his brow furrowing.

"I'm putting you behind the desk," the Captain boomed, "you'll sign in every soldier that comes in and out of this place, dead or alive.  There's a form letter here that you'll send off to the families of the dead.  Private Milner will show you the rest.  Any questions?"

"Um, yes…sir, when will I go out to…uh, fight?"

"Fight?" the Captain chuckled, "Hell, son, you should count your blessings.  You wouldn't last a week out in those jungles."

~*~

New York

Monica sat in the cold, dim waiting room, picking at her cuticles nervously.  The clinic smelled awful, and the sounds of women crying and screaming put her on edge even more.  Phoebe sat next to Monica, and watched her as she squirmed in her seat.

Phoebe was the only person that knew about Monica's suspicions that she may be pregnant.  She'd started showing symptoms about a week after Chandler was shipped off to Boot Camp.  Monica felt her heart lurch, as she pictured the look Chandler had had on his face the day he left.  He'd stayed strong for her, but she knew that inside, he was hurting deeply.  She was happy that he was at least able to go with Joey;

"It'll be good, ya know, to have a friend with you."

"I wish I could stay here with you, Mon."

"I'll be here when you get back…I swear."

"Then I swear I'll be back."

"Miss Geller?"

"Yes?" Monica was pulled from her reverie, when the nurse pulled her into the next room.

"Pheebs, what am I gonna do?  My folks are going to kill me!"

"Well, I know some people in Chinatown…"

"No way, Pheebs, forget it."

"I'm just saying—"

"I can't…I just can't.  But what am I gonna do?  Chandler is halfway to Vietnam by now!  And what if he doesn't come back?  What if—"

"Look, Monica, it's not the end of the world!  I'm sure your parents will help you, and his parents might too!  Think about how great it could be, to have a little Chandler walking around!" Phoebe smiled.

"Yeah," Monica sighed sadly.  Easy for her to say…she's not the pregnant one.

~*~

"You know, for a guy who didn't even want to do this, you're doing surprisingly well," Joey smirked, as he and Chandler ran their requisite five miles around the camp.

"Well, between you and me, I'm hoping to get shot in the shoulder upon landing, so I can go home," Chandler huffed.

"I think you'll have to do a lot better than that," Joey smiled, "Or worse."

"Ugh, I'm not even there yet, and I already hate that place," Chandler said, referring to Vietnam.

"It's Monica, isn't it?  I mean, all of your political bullshit aside, you just didn't want to leave the girl."

"Political bullshit aside…I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well, maybe we'll get lucky…maybe this war will be over before we get shipped out."

"If you think this war will be over in two weeks, you're outta your mind," Chandler grinned, and sprinted ahead, with Joey close on his heels.

~*~

"Pregnant?  Pregnant?  Are you kidding me?" Judy fumed, her face turning crimson with each syllable she spoke.

"Y-yes.  Six weeks."

"Who is he?" Jack asked, his tone flat and low.

"Chandler Bing…he's…he's gone to war."

"Did he…force you?" Jack asked, a look of pure hatred crossing his face.

"No!  No.  We…I love him."

"Right," Judy huffed.

"I do!  And he's coming back for me!  We'll get married when he gets home," Monica said confidently, though inside she wondered just what Chandler would do when he found out.

Monica had sent Chandler a letter that afternoon.  He'd been sending her letters daily, all of them filled with talk about how much he hated his training, and how annoyed he was that his superiors thought he was 'doing well'.  He also talked about how much he missed her, and how he longed to see her.  The proclamations filled Monica with the confidence she needed to not only reveal her pregnancy to him, but to her own parents.  And while she was prepared for their objection and disappointment, she was not prepared for what came next.

"I want you out of my house.  Pack a bag, and get out.  I will not have this kind of…immorality in this house," the statement did not come from Judy—it came from Jack.

Monica looked at her father, with tears in her eyes.  Jack would not look at her; he stared at the floor as he spoke.  Monica looked pleadingly at her mother, but it was clear from her stern expression that she agreed with the decision.  Crying out, Monica stood, and ran from the living room, before stumbling up the stairs to her bedroom.

~*~

The telegram came the next morning.  Rachel and her mother had been visiting with the Geller's when two uniformed officers came to the door.  Rachel was the first to notice them, as they approached.

"Oh my God," Rachel whispered, her face turning white.

Jack opened the door before the officers could knock.

"Mr. Geller?" the taller officer asked.

"Yes," Jack choked.

"On behalf of the United States Government, we offer our sincerest condolences," the officer handed Jack a pale yellow slip of paper, saluted, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Jack closed the door behind him, and stared blankly at the paper in his hand.  Judy, Sandra and Rachel approached slowly, and Jack unfolded the telegram.

Ross Edward Gellar

PT14872

Killed in The Line of Duty

Some folks are born made to wave the flag,

Ooh, they're red, white and blue.

And when the band plays "Hail to the chief",

Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son.

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no,

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,

Lord, don't they help themselves, oh.

But when the taxman comes to the door,

Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no.

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no.

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,

Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord,

And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"

Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! yo,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son.

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one.

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no,

("Fortunate Son", Creedence Clearwater Revival)