Good Bye World

It wasn't cold now, but the feeling of despair wrapped Kohl like a shroud and made him shiver. The plane lifted off the runway in a heaving motion skyward, surrounded by silent fog, discouraging the early morning light. He appeared to be looking out the window, but didn't notice Travis Air Force Base disappearing in the fog, nor did he hear the whine of the jet engine, but he did feel. He felt it in the pit of his stomach, a constricted ache that keeps you from swallowing; the feel of sweat that runs freely down the sides of the armpits; the beads of sweat that collect on the upper lip. It was a trapped feeling, enclosing, constricting, confining, and feeling helpless and caught without a place to hide.

"You can take off your seat belt now, Sir." Since there was not a reaction, the stewardess repeated, "Sir, you can take off your seat belt.” Louder! "Sir!"

"Uh?" Kohl's head jerked from the window toward the voice.

"Your seat belt, Sir.”

"Oh, yeah, okay."

His hands were going to move. At least they were supposed to move. He deliberately looked at them as they clutched the black briefcase on his lap, but his gaze disappeared into the white knuckles where his fingers gripped the black Samsonite ... and the black night. He became lost within the cracks and scratches of the dark plastic. Dusty, I love you, I do. He heard her sweet, soft voice so clearly. He felt her pull him closer to her warm body and kiss his back. He felt the bed shake when she cried, trying to bury her sobs in her pillow ... a tear fell. It was on the black briefcase. It was there. He saw it. Moving only his hand, with his finger he wiped it away. He turned his head back toward the window. God, I'm crying for Christ's sake.

He wondered how many men on the plane were crying.

If I could have only ... if only. It's like looking back and when you turnaround, there, right in front of your face, is a big sign that says, 'If only'.If only on such and such a day. If only it had been an inch closer or anhour later. If only I would have done that instead of letting it slide. If onlyI knew then what I know now. Something done. Something neglected. Something said or left unsaid. If only. Oh boy. That's all I need to start doing. To start wondering, if only? I can't change history. I know. But why me?

Kohl knew the answer. He wasn't much to dwell nor linger on the past. Not that he was a fatalist, nor believed that God had this plan for him. He accepted his plight or pleasure. And if he didn't like it he tried to change it. I can't be looking over my shoulder at if only. I might end up sucking on
my forty-five.

For the first time he looked out the window and saw the tops of the two orange spans of the Golden Gate Bridge sticking out of the fog. He also, for the first time, looked around at the other men on the plane, all military, some in civilian clothes like himself, but most in the uniforms of the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine.

Happy New Year, you unfortunate assholes. Each within a shell, within a shell. Kohl's jaw tightened at the anger that was within him. A plane hurl-ing through space and time, taking his dreams and places he loved. From times he didn't want to pass. Bodies, numbers and orders. It said...

From: Commanding Officer

To: Lieutenant Dusty M. Kohl, 086755, USMCR

1.In accordance with reference (b) OINC Transient Section, Mark Bks TI ltr. 10: RFE; dwr over 4650 dts 25 Nov 64.) Your orders are modified in that you will report to the Marine Corps Liaison, MATS Terminal, Building Number 3,Travis Air Force Base, Fairfield, California not later than 0800 4 January 1965, for transportation to the 3rd Marine Division (Rein) FMF (MCC 125) reporting upon your arrival at Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa to the Commanding General.

He read the orders again like he had the first time. It never changed. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. Please, Lord, let this be just a bad dream. As he opened his eyes, it didn't matter how hard he tried; it was still there. It wasn't going to change.

"Sir, can I get you anything?" asked the stewardess.

You'd better look at her real hard. It'll probably be the last round-eyed girl you'll see in a year. Yeah, get me the fuck off this plane.

"Why yes.” As he displayed his best smile. She hadn't expected a response. "Miss? I think there has been some mistake. I think I'm on the wrong plane going to the wrong place."

The Marine Corps Corporal in the seat next to Kohl turned and gave him a questioning look and the stewardess' smile vanished from a face that was turning pale.

She asked, "Are those your orders there?" She reached out her hand and Kohl handed her his orders. She read them quickly and glanced at Kohl and then back at the orders and let out a sigh of relief.

She shook her head smiling, "Oh, no sir, you’re on the right plane."

"Damn!" He took the orders back, then shrugged, and looked up at her. "Sorry. I was just kidding."

She apparently didn't find it amusing, gave him an annoyed look, wheeled and left.

"Nice ass," a smiling Kohl said to the corporal sitting next to him.

The corporal looked at the retreating stewardess and nodded. But he still had a puzzled look on his face.

Kohl unbuckled his seat belt, put his briefcase under the seat, and settled back, while the plane raced ahead of the sun. One thing in my favor, though, being a senior First Lieutenant, with only eleven months to do in the Corps on a tour where the standard duty was thirteen months. I’ll probably get a nice desk job in Headquarters Battalion, like S-2, S-3, S-4 or Motor Transport Co., maybe even Special Services Officer, maybe BOQ Officer.

Kohl smiled to himself knowing he was going to be a short timer as soon as he stepped off the plane. He continued his reasoning: They can't threat-en me like they did in Basic School. "You screw up again, Kohl, and we'll send your skinny ass to infantry." Well, they did that anyway. Then they said, "You screw up again, Kohl, and we'll send your recently married ass to Okinawa,” which they did. But now, shit. What are they going to do to me now? No more shit details. I'm at the end of the line. I am on my way to the end of the world. He grinned. I signed up for the Marine Corps; I'll do my duty. Clean up my act for my last eleven months. Get out and start my life as a civilian. Teach, maybe, and coach too.

Kohl looked out the window to the puffy white clouds below and asked, What happened to December? He smiled at the thought of Julie and how beautiful she looked floating down the aisle. He regretted that he wasn't able to enjoy it more at the time, not only did he have all of the effects of a hang-over from the bachelor party, splitting headache,eye balls webbed with reddish hue, he was also wearing some girl's bikini underwear. I still can't remember where they came from or how come I was wearing them, and it felt as if any moment he was going to throw-up. Bile had been working its way up his throat to the point of no return. His best man, First Lieutenant Paul M. Mays, was holding Kohl steady, or was Kohl holding him steady? I can't lose my cookies right here in front of all these people, especially her father. He didn't have a very good opinion of Kohl anyway. Through the eyes of the two hundred guests, the wedding was impressive with Kohl, best man, and ushers all in their dress blues and sabers. The bridesmaids were beautiful, too. The first one down the aisle licked her lips and gave Kohl a wink. She had visited Kohl two nights before in the basement guestroom of his future bride’s home, in her little, short, teddy. She had caught him walk-ing out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. Everything she had was pushing to get out... tits and ass. Kohl felt the visit was no acci-dent. It could be a trap. The devil is tempting me. If I can't pass this test, how am I going to handle myself overseas? Handle myself. Ha, ha. Little joke there.

"Hi Dusty.”

"Hi Kathy.”

"I'm sorry dear. I didn't know you were down here." Yeah, right. "I was going to take a quick shower before bed. Julie went with her mom to the store." That's a nice bit of information. "Don't mind me." Are you kid-ding? "Just go on with what you're doing." As she stood facing Kohl, she pulled off the straps of her teddy and let it fall loosely to the floor. She licked her lips. Her nipples must have been an inch long. What's a man to do? Maybe getting married is a bad idea.

Kohl had received lectures from not only her parents but most of his bud-dies too. "Kohl, you're a screaming asshole. Nobody and I mean nobody gets married for one month and then leaves for a year in Oki. No whorin' and roarin' for you, bub. Just plain dumb if you ask me." That seemed to be the general gist of it all. He dismissed most of their comments since they were mostly single and had few plans except to stay drunk and partake in the ladies of the night most of their liberty hours anyway.

Kohl smiled again thinking about what a wonderful time they had at Heavenly Valley, Tahoe. He could feel her soft lips touch his as they lay in front of the cabin fire. "I love you, Dusty."

"I love you too, Baby."

"Huh?” said the Corporal with a bewildered look.

Kohl pretended he didn't hear and looked nonchalantly at the ceiling of the plane.

When Kohl didn't answer the Corporal shrugged and returned to his book.

Hell, I'll be loonier than a fruitcake before this tour is over. Already talk-ing and mumbling to myself. I shouldn't have let her go to the airport. It's funny, I didn't think of that until I looked at her and found I couldn't bear to leave her there. She said it was going to be harder for her than it was for me. The one leaving had the excitement of the unknown; the adven-ture of something new, while the one left behind is left with nothing but memories and emptiness. You should have thought more about the effects that it was going to have on her, dip shit.

As Kohl had turned and walked towards the plane, he felt like he was walking away from the most wonderful times of his life. The days and nights were gone. The sands had disappeared from the hourglass. The last touch of an ungrasping hand. That's what happened to December, Kohl. Say good-bye.

"Goodbye," said Kohl.

The Corporal moved his legs to the side and looked at the seated Lieutenant. "Goodbye,” he answered.

"Goodbye?” Kohl questioned. "I'm not going anywhere. Well actually I am going somewhere but I'm not leaving the seat. I'm just sitting here."

"Well you said 'goodbye', Sir. Do you want by?"

"No, I don't want by. You're the one who said 'goodbye'."

"Look Lieutenant,” he sounded annoyed now, "I said goodbye in answer to you when you said goodbye."

"But I'm not going anywhere. There's nowhere to go. Forget it, just forget it. This is stupid."

First stop, Hawaii. The Corporal put his book away, getting ready to dis-embark. He had told Kohl this was his second tour and had re-upped for Hawaii. He was single, excited and looking forward to his next three years. He wished the Lieutenant good luck. "Surfs up!" he said as he got up to leave.

Now that the plane had left Hawaii, and the corporal had left, Kohl had the whole seat to himself.

Why yes, I've been to Hawaii.

Well, what did you think of the tropical paradise?

It's hard to explain. I don't know where to start. So many things to see and do and so little time. One of the things I remember most was when we flew past Diamond Head and the big, puffy, white clouds that cast shadows over the bluest water I've ever seen. The terminal was very nice. The Hawaiian cuisine was exquisite. I dined on a grilled cheese and a chocolate shake at the airport restaurant. I went to the restroom to take a leak and heard this music and while I was looking for the speakers, I peed on my shoe. I should have kept my mind on the matter in hand. He, he, he. Little joke there. Have I seen Hawaii? Oh yes, I've seen Hawaii. Kohl settled back and dreamed his way to Wake Island.

He woke up with a start as he heard the rumble and grind of the landing gear going down. He asked the grumpy stewardess, She must carry a grudge forever, where they were? She told him that they were coming into Wake Island. As the plane dipped to the port side and leveled out, he could see the island out the starboard side. Hell, I've seen bigger islands in the Sacramento River Delta. There was nothing on it but a tower and airstrip. Looked like the island was covered with white rocks. Uh? Heard someone say it was bird shit. The whole island? Bird shit? Yeah, that's right.

On the home stretch. I've come a long way since that time I talked to the Marine Corps recruiter in Denver.

*

Kohl had been receiving letters from the Draft Board for the last four months. This was his fifth year of college and it looked like it could take longer to finish. He was on a full ride athletic scholarship for basketball, which took up big chunks of time most of the school year, plus he had part-time jobs to help pay for living expenses. During this time, he had taken the Air Force Officers' test ... If a plane was traveling east at three hundred and twenty five miles an hour and had left Dallas Airport at 0630 and another plane left Washington D.C. at 0630 traveling west at two hundred and fifty miles per hour, how long would it take for the two planes to meet? ... And failed.

He talked to the Army about going to officers' school after graduation. They told him that he would have to go through Boot Camp and then apply to officers' school. However, there would not be a guarantee that he would be selected. And if he were selected, he would have to serve four years after he received his commission.

Not one to be discouraged, Kohl talked to the Navy. They told him that he would be eligible for officer's school after graduation. He asked them if they had anything on shore because he got seasick. They said they couldn't guar-antee it. They trained all their officers for ship duty. So much for the Navy.

It was May now and the draft board was getting rather persistent. Kohl had received orders to take his physical. He was due to graduate in August. He didn't want to be an enlisted man. His dad had been in the Navy during the Second World War and told him..."Dusty, there's only one way to go into the service and that's as an officer. There's a lot of crap that goes on, and that crap has a tendency of rolling downhill, so the way I see it, the closer you are to the top of the hill the less crap." So...

"Yes, Mr. Kohl, we do," said the Marine with three stripes on his sleeve. "The Quantico Marines have an excellent basketball program. They play all the major colleges and universities along the Atlantic Coast and with colle-giate background playing at Denver University, you shouldn't have any diffi-culty in making the team."

Kohl felt like he needed to explain further. "You see, I figure I can offer my country more by participating in athletics. You know, like public rela-tions." I can't believe what I'm saying and who I'm saying it to. Do you know to whom you're talking? A Marine recruiter. Aren't you aware of what the Marines do? Haven't you heard the stories? Seen the John Wayne movies? Can you really see yourself crawling around and hiding in bushes? Huh?

"That's right Mr. Kohl. We feel the same way you do. Our athletic pro-grams at all our bases are an integral part of our public image," said the Marine with the three stripes.

A clerk, with one stripe and crossed rifles on his sleeve, came in and hand-ed Kohl's test results to the three stripes. "Well, you did very well on your test, Mr. Kohl," said the three-striper.

This surprised Kohl, because he hadn't done very well on any test in his life.

The three-striper said, "It looks like you're all ready for the Captain." The three-striper walked stiffly to the door that separated the office from the main lobby and knocked three times sharply.

"Yes?" came the reply.

"Captain, Sir? He's ready."

Oh shit! I don't know about this. Maybe I'd better go back to school and think about this.

The door opened and out marched a young man in his mid 20's, of average build, with striking red hair and freckles. He was about the same height as Kohl, just over six two and as he stood in front of Kohl, his green eyes were serious.

"Hi," said Kohl. The Captain didn't respond. He must not have heard.

"So, you want to be a Marine." His voice was low and soft but had an edge to it.

"Well, I thought maybe ... Hell, I don't know...”

The Captain frowned and glanced at the Sergeant. He looked at the appli-cation he held. "Mr. Kohl, by all indications you have excellent qualifications for a Marine Corps Officer. We need men of your caliber. I feel you have made the only choice...” he paused, "to be a Marine."

"Well, OK. I have to do something, or I'm going to end up being drafted in the Army. So I guess. I'll join up," Kohl said, letting out a big sigh.

The Captain took a sheet of paper that the three-striper handed him and he read the oath to Kohl who repeated the lines after him. Kohl ended with, "I do." Jesus, sounds like I'm getting married. Little did he know?

The Captain looked at the three-striper. His expression showed nothing. The Captain returned his gaze to Kohl. His jaw muscles were working. "It takes a special man to be a Marine. He must be strong physically, mentally, and emotionally. It's the same as in team sports, where there is little room for the individual. It takes a team effort, each depending upon one another to do his best. The team is only as strong as its weakest link. The Marines eliminate the weak links. At Officers' Candidate School these weak links either quit or get kicked out. The Marine Corps prides itself on being the best. This feeling of pride we share was founded on our glorious past, a liv-ing tradition that inspires every Marine to be the best. It isn't going to be easy, Mr. Kohl. You will never experience anything in your life that will be as difficult as making it through Marine Corps Officers Candidate School, that is except for one thing...” the Captain paused for affect, "... combat.”

As Kohl left, he felt confused. He felt a sudden feeling of pride in going back to the frat and telling everybody that he had joined the Marines. And yet he was uneasy, like he might be making a big mistake. He reassured him-self that the Captain has to say all that rah, rah stuff to keep the queers out. He thought he could take anything the Marines could dish out.

Kohl would make a good Marine officer. There were reasons that Kohl wasn't fully aware of. He was a leader. Through his activities in athletics at Huntington Beach High School, California, he not only was a premier bas-ketball player but also lettered varsity in football as a split end, ran quarter mile for the track team and was on the C.I.F. championship mile relay team. He was a team player. His coaches and teammates liked and respected him. He always gave a maximum effort, followed directions, and yet took the ini-tiative. Since getting the scholarship to Denver University, he had been called upon to play an even greater role in the leadership of the team by earning the starting point guard position his sophomore year. His final year he led the league in assists and averaged fifteen points per game. That won him honors in the Skyline Conference. During the summers he worked for the Huntington Beach Recreation Department as a Recreation Leader, where he coached and supervised youth activities. He was authoritative without being bossy. He was conscientious without being pious.

Kohl remembered vaguely his first encounter with the famous Marine Corps Drill Sergeant. The vague memory was because on that day in October when he reported to the Marine Corps Officers Candidate School, at Quantico, Virginia, he was high. He had smoked a fair-thee-well-civilian-life joint at the Quantico bus depot. It was a mistake and an unfortunate beginning, as he came "bippy-boppen" into the cement squad bay that faced the beautifully gold tree-lined Potomac River. He began by giggling at the Drill Instructors, with their Smoky Bear hats. He thought they looked funny. They did not find his humor amusing. It went down hill from there. The Captain recruiter was right. To Kohl, it wasn't the physical, or the class work, it was the constant 'in-your-face' harassment. Kohl remembered the time he was carrying a swab and bucket down a hall. He didn't see the DI until it was too late. He was supposed to yell, as loud as he could, "gang way" and press himself up against the wall. The DI grabbed Kohl and threw him against the wall. He took hold of the bill of his cover and pushed the bill and his fist into Kohl's face. This was quite a reach for the shorter DI. Fear was Kohl’s' initial response and as the DI continued the pushing and yelling at what a fuck-up he was, Kohl’s' fear turned to anger. Come on you little fucker. Call me anything you want because it don't matter. Do anything to me, push-ups on coke bottles, crawling for miles on my belly in the mud, because it don't matter. It's like water off a duck's back. Just rolls off. Come on, you ignorant little fuck head, give me your best shot. When the DI took his hand down, Kohl looked straight into the opposite wall, showing no fear, nor anger. Nothing. His expression was without emotion. The DI smiled and continued walking down the hall. It was the turning point for Kohl without him knowing it. When a candidate at OCS got to the point of realizing that they could take anything the DI’s could dish out, you were on your way to becoming a Marine.

*

Kohl shuddered and woke up. He saw the lights of Naha, as the plane made a right-bank for a landing approach into Kadena Air Force Base. He wondered who would be there to meet him and what his new billet would be. I’ll probably spend a couple of days to get squared away and all. He was already thinking about the return to the mainland. He considered tran-sit time (five days), accumulated leave (thirty days), and rehabilitation time (fourteen days). He could be back stateside sometime in September. That's only nine months.

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