Authors: James Frishkey
Later that week Joe went to the store to pick up his last paycheck. Larry had heard only one side of the story and wanted to hear Joe’s side. He didn’t want to lose Joe and made that clear but Joe was burnt out. Losing Mary extinguished any passion left for life and a future without her was impossible to imagine.
For the next few weeks Joe just laid around the house, listening to his dad bitch about him being a lazy bum and threatening to throw him out if he didn’t get a job. His primary activity had become reading every Ian Fleming book he could get his hands on. James Bond became his alter ego and he memorized every facet of 007’s persona…Rolex watch, dry martini, Aston Martin, Walther PPK…everything.
In time Joe knew he had to get some money in his pocket and talked to the Lebanese owner of the local party store who had asked Joe many times to work for him. They could only offer minimum wage and part-time work but that was fine with Joe. He could walk to the store which might burn off some of the gut he had acquired laying around all summer. As it turned out, Joe left most of what he earned in the store, buying beer and junk food. The owner never asked Joe for ID and either didn’t care or just assumed Joe was of legal age.
Johnny was now working full time days in the Produce Department and said they were looking for a part-timer to work nights if he was interested. This was a much needed wake up call for Joe and he eagerly accepted. Larry the store manager wouldn’t admit it but he was happy to have Joe back in the store. Being in another department kept Joe away from any old enemies and allowed him to focus on learning new skills…trimming celery and corn, bagging lettuce and other related steps to keep the produce looking fresh.
As Joe increased his knowledge of handling this new job, he was gaining the trust of Bill, the Produce Manager. Bill began increasing Joe’s hours and using him to fill in during the day when one of the other full-timers had a day off. Johnny was starting to act threatened by Joe at work and it clearly affected their friendship. Johnny had also found a girl he was really serious about and found little time for his old friend. Joe was OK with that as he did the same when he was knee deep in Mary.
CHAPTER 13
B
y the end of 1966, Joe had still not gotten over losing Mary. There had been no contact at all and he had stopped calling her months ago, but just for old times he would occasionally cruise by her house and even honk the horn hoping to piss off her parents and rekindle an old fear in them.
By then Joe was now full time at the store. Johnny’s uncle had gotten him a job at Ford Motor and Joe basically became Johnny’s replacement. He had developed a strong reputation with the Regional Manager who frequently used him to open new stores around the city. As the money rolled in, Joe decided he wanted to find a nice used Corvette…his dream car.
Joe’s dad was actually excited about his son getting a hot sports car and helped in the search for just the right ‘Vette. As if by fate, his dad was driving home from work and spotted a beautiful white ’61 Corvette parked with a “For Sale” sign on it. By that weekend, Joe was the proud owner. Clearly it was the fastest car Joe had ever driven or even rode in. Two four-barrel carbs; close ration 4 speed; two tops…a real rocket ship! Making the payments would not be a problem but getting insurance would require being on his dad’s policy.
Around the same time, Larry acquired a Pontiac Bonneville with a 421 engine that was very fast and he and Joe often drag-raced, with Joe the undefeated champion. Johnny had an Olds 442 Convertible which became the cruise limo of choice when they went out as a group. Chicks loved that car and it was roomy enough to handle extra passengers if they got lucky.
Clearly, the three friends were doing well with college no longer a distraction. They all had good jobs with a chance for upward mobility; great cars and, in Johnny’s case, a great girlfriend. Joe was still deeply in love with Mary but had moved her to a deep spot in his memory to assuage the hurt she had caused.
The only dark spot on the horizon was Viet Nam and the day of reckoning was soon at hand. All three received their notices to report for their physical at the same time. Johnny and Joe were to report on the same day. LBJ as ramping up our involvement and the draft was kicking in. All student deferments had been rescinded and both the Army and Marines were taking draftees for immediate deployment, after training, to Viet Nam.
Larry was the first to seek an alternative and enlisted in the Navy. Although that would require a four year commitment, he reasoned that would be better than two years in the infantry with at least one of them on the ground in Nam. He did his basic training at Great Lakes, just outside of Chicago and chose to become a Corpsman.
What he didn’t realize was that 90% of all Navy Corpsmen were being transferred to a Marine Battalion right in the middle of the shit in Viet Nam. This was a virtual death sentence. Larry was no coward but his brain told him he had fucked up and he needed to get off the Corpsman list and fast. He started his campaign with his Recruits Group Commander and, with each rejection, took it to the next level. Finally he found a sympathetic ear in the Base Commander who signed a change in orders, assigning him to become a Plane Captain and landing on the USS Enterprise, an aircraft carrier heading to South East Asia.
By this time, draft eligible kids were flocking to join the National Guard or the Reserves, hoping to dodge a date with the VC if they were drafted. Joe’s dad had an employee who was a Commander in the Navy Reserves and offered to get Joe moved up the list. Johnny had no option but to take his physical and hope for the best.
The two friends reported to Fort Wayne for their physicals and spent the better part of the day moving from station to station in their jockey shorts. After dressing, they were each told they had passed and to expect a draft notice in the near future. When they got home and told their families the news, their mothers were devastated. Johnny’s dad suggested he consider going to Canada which was becoming a popular way to avoid the draft but would have life altering consequences no one wanted to talk about. This was not an option Johnny wanted to pursue.
Joe still had the Navy Reserve card to play and asked his dad to get the wheels moving. He would be required to take a written test, followed by another physical performed by Navy doctors with standards unique to that branch. It was possible to fail the Navy physical but still be acceptable to the Army.
While this drama was unfolding, Joe’s mother was transferred to the Bridal Boutique at the Hudson’s department store she had been working at. This was the most prestigious sales position in women’s clothing and she excelled in helping young brides-to-be select the perfect gown for their big day.
One afternoon after her lunch break she returned to the boutique where several girls and their mothers were browsing the display gowns. One girl in particular looked very familiar and when she turned to face her, his mom almost fell over…it was Mary. After exchanging greetings, Joe’s mom excused herself and went to her supervisor. “I can’t wait on that girl. She broke my son’s heart and I will not help her find a gown to marry someone else.” The supervisor understood and took over helping Mary while Joe’s mom went to the break room ready to punch something.
When Joe’s mother got home she was torn about telling Joe what had happened. She knew he was still in pain over losing Mary and this news might reopen that wound that was beginning to heal. Her Italian blood was boiling and it was impossible for her to keep this inside so she decided to tell Joe when he got home from work that evening.
Joe’s mom heard the roar of the Corvette as it pulled into the garage and got up and made some coffee. It was late and Joe was a little buzzed from post-work beer guzzling but she had to talk to him no matter the time. “Sit down Joey. I made some fresh coffee for you.”
Joe kicked off his shoes and sipped the piping hot coffee as his mother continued to speak. “I had a surprise visitor today in the bridal boutique. Mary and her mother can in to look at bridal gowns.”
Joe almost fell off his chair. “What did she say?” he asked hoping for more details. “How did she look?”
“I wouldn’t wait on her,” his mother answered. “I turned her over to my boss. I couldn’t believe she would be that bold to expect me to help her buy a wedding gown. She looked the same as before.”
CHAPTER 14
July, 1968 – Gio Linh, South Vietnam
T
he 12th Marines were positioned along with an Army unit and were directing artillery fire over the DMZ into North Vietnam. Joe was one of three sergeants in his outfit at the time and each would rotate leading a night ambush patrol. Every third night, regardless of the weather conditions, he would be out all night in the shit. On the other days he would stand radio watch, do repair work, or erect radio masts. He had the “thousand yard stare” and had become conditioned to the sight, sound and smell of death.
Joe’s route to the Marines was sudden and almost destroyed his mother. He just didn’t give a fuck anymore after hearing of Mary’s pending marriage. His father was successful in getting Joe fast tracked to the top of the list for the Navy Reserves but Joe didn’t care. The toughest man he had every met was a second cousin who served in the Marines in WWII and Joe wanted to get the best, or worst, of that life. He wanted to hurt someone, even if it was himself.
Larry was an F4B Phantom plane captain on the Enterprise in the Gulf of Tonkin along with 4,800 enlisted men and over 350 officers. As the flagship of Rear Admiral Henry L. Miller, the Big E was leading Task Force 77 in the air and sea bombardment of the enemy.
Johnny was drafted, as expected, into the Army but simply couldn’t handle basic and AIT. He tried every angle he could think of to get out and finally his conduct earned him a dishonorable discharge which would haunt him the rest of his adult life. He returned home to his job at Ford while his friends continued to serve a country that saw no value in their service. His return also surprised his girl who was dating other guys and would continue to do so.
Phil was also home, no longer a member of the Annapolis Class of 1968. His grades and inability to keep up physically ended in an honorable discharge. In spite of this harsh return to reality, he still had a good enough transcript to get him into the University of Michigan, a top tier university on a par with Stanford and the Ivy League schools. His dad, however, was stunned and embarrassed that his son failed at the most important opportunity he had been given. He would never get over this nor completely forgive Phil for his failing.
As Joe’s deployment in Viet Nam was coming to an end, he often wondered how in the world he had avoided getting wounded. Although technically classified a Radio Relay repairman, Joe was a Marine and Marines were infantrymen first and foremost and infantrymen were doomed to hump the boonies and seek out and confront the enemy.
Joe’s dad was not a hunter or gun enthusiast and Joe had never fired a weapon before joining the military. To say he excelled would be an understatement. His skills as a marksman became well known among the 3rd Marine Division. He was encouraged to consider sniper training but preferred to remain an obscure yet treasured asset in combat by his peers.
When Joe rotated out of ‘Nam his sector in Dong Ha had been quiet for several weeks. The day he was scheduled to leave, Charlie decided to attack the airbase. Joe was waiting to board while the pilot decided whether he should chance taking off amid the artillery barrage cascading down on the air field. The pilot asked Joe if he was the Marine who’d been given emergency leave and asked to see his orders. Joe never answered and simply handed him the envelope containing his orders. The pilot never looked at them. He just told Joe to get on board and they took off for Da Nang. As Joe sat in the plane he was overcome with the smell of death. The plane had been used to transport wounded and those beyond mortal care. Joe knew that smell and it would stay with him the rest of his life.
Joe returned stateside just before Christmas and was stationed at Camp Lejeune, SC. It didn’t take long for his well-documented skills with the rifle to catch up with him and he was immediately selected to join the Marine Corps shooting team, stationed at Marine Corps Base Quantico, VA. As a competitive marksman, Joe would practice for hours to perfect an already impressive talent. Now he was shooting with the best of the best…from all military branches and Olympic level civilian shooters. He did not disappoint.
On August 3, 1969 Joe was discharged from the Marines. His return home was unceremonious; no parades were planned in his honor. In fact, returning vets were often ridiculed and called baby killers by student activists who were screaming for our total withdrawal. Joe saw no upside to wearing his uniform in public and carefully packed it away. Unfortunately the horrors he experienced could not be included in that box.
When the Tet Offensive was launched by the North in January of 1968, it was clearly a huge defeat militarily for the enemy. To the American people, however, it revealed the flaws in the reports of enemy weakness that were being sold by the military brass and, ultimately, it proved to be a huge communist propaganda victory. Seeing the battles unfold on TV each night set the stage for even Walter Cronkite’s acknowledgement we would not win this war. Joe accepted this reality with great difficulty. So many friends had been sacrificed…for what?
When Johnny heard that Joe was back home he immediately asked him to be his best man. He was getting married to the girl who cheated on him while he was at boot camp. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing. Joe was happy to accept even though he had zero respect for the bride and less for Johnny after he turned a blind eye to her unfaithfulness. Joe would wear his full dress uniform. Fuck the protestors.