Nam

Langness, David. Wounded Field Solder during Vietnam War. Digital image. Bahaiteachings. Bahaiteachings, 22 Nov. 2014. Web. 11 Dec. 2015.

I could see through myself, almost like a ghost, moving through obstacles in my way.  I moved on to what seemed like a chapel. Stained glass, humming, families walking out of the front double door, grieving, figures wearing military uniforms surrounded me. Something, like a whisper in the back of my head, led me to the doors of this huge chapel. Pushing past all the people at the door, my already weak mind was overwhelmed with a mixture of screams, explosions, and bright lights.

As my eyelids rolled open ever so slowly, all I could see were six bright lights being shined in my face. Faceless people were crowding around me, speaking what seemed like an unknown, out of this world language. Slowly regaining my consciousness, I attempted to jerk my right leg, however, I could not feel anything moving. Left leg… Right arm… Left hand… no reaction from my muscles, almost as if I was paralyzed in all my limbs. My mouth opened, but all that came out was air and spit.   No vocals.

“Captain?”

  Maybe the shapes around me recognized my attempts to communicate.

“Doc, he is up!”

Am I in a hospital? The last thing I could remember was two big doors, glass, humming, all very vague.

Why did the first voice call me Captain? Captain of what? Captain of who?

“Captain Jenkins, do you know where you are?” Said a feminine voice that seemed to belong to a shape wearing a white lab coat of sorts.

I was trying my best to say “no.” After multiple attempts I tried to scream, squeal. Throw my head to the left and right. Nothing.

“Doc, why isn’t he talking”

“After an explosion like that, I would not expect him to talk or move his remaining body for the next 10 years.”

“Shit, really doc?”

“There is an alternative”

“We are willing to try anything to help him, after he saved us like that back in Nam”

“We can just let him go”

Silence, nothing but silence after those words were said by the female voice. Honestly, I didn’t even know who I was, where I was, and why I was here. But the thought of not moving for the next 10 years drove me close to insanity. Do the people around me really have the authority, to ‘let me go’ and if so, what does that mean? At the time I thought it meant, killing me, executing me, like a sick pet.

“Think he is in pain?”

“Definitely, judging by the several amputations we already did, and the wounds around his face. Most pain he has ever been in.”

I actually can’t feel any pain, I can’t feel anything actually. It’s nothing like I have ever felt before.

“Those f-ing gooks”

Gooks? I was in Vietnam? Captain? Saved? Am I like considered a war hero now?

“If he is in this much pain I think it's better to let him go.”

“Yeah, I remember when I was a kid, we had to put down my dog Rex, loved him till his last breath.”

“Shut up Doug, you aren’t helping”

I remembered Doug, nice kid, smoked like a chimney, was like the class clown of the squad. But comparing me to putting down a dog...

The first feeling that came back to my body, was fear, intense fear, like a really bad nightmare.

Was I really going to be, just, put down?

That question struck so much fear to me, if I could, I would have squealed like a little girl at that point.

“Shouldn’t his family decide for him, not us?”

“According to the medical records I have here, none of his family is still around, and his only brother is still stuck in Vietnam.”

“Just hook him up doc”

“Not too fast Frank, we can’t just let him be here, what if he has to suffer for the next decade because of the decision we make now?”

I can’t believe my boys, even Doug my close friend, would consider killing me because some doctor said I could be in a lot of pain.

“He has a point.”

“Let’s vote on it.”

Voting over a life, a human life, and a definitive vote to settle it. Living the American dream.

“Are you ok with that doc?”

“Yes.”

Wow, is this even legal? What changed in this country since I left of Vietnam?

“Doug?”

“Let him go.”

“Frank?”

“Give him a chance to live, maybe he'll come around eventually.”

I trusted Jim with my life before, multiple times, he hasn’t let me down yet. Obviously, I am hoping this won’t be a first. I sacrificed my life for him, and two others, it’s impossible for me to imagine they wouldn’t let me slip away into deaths tight grip.

“I hope I am making the right decision here, but, 10 years of being in an immobile state is something I wouldn’t wish to my worst enemy-.”

No. Please. No.

“We have to let him go doc.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

At this point I was in total fear, terror, not ready for for my final moments on this earth. The fear of eternal termination. My whole life, gone, from an impetuous decision to save my fellow squad mates. Like the sand in an hourglass slowly pouring to the other side, but unlike the sand in an hourglass, I didn’t know where I was going.