FanStory.com - The Internal ...by Allezw2

One of the hated guards was gutting a dying prisoner, strewing entrails as I screamed and cursed him. His attention turned to me. "So sad to see yourself in this state, eh? So you won't see." Pressing my head against the wall behind me, his fingernail hooked out my left eye. Lips spread wide in a demonic grin he slipped the orb with a string of nerve and muscle tissue into his mouth. Fixed on my face, he chewed and swallowed it. I closed my remaining eye, chin on my chest. "Quiet now, eh? Good for you. You have one left." He laughed and went back to tormenting his heelpless prisoner. His screams suddenly stopped and I opened my eye to see his tormenter pulling out a string of intestine, forming a loop and swinging it about himself as he stepped through it in time with the loop continuing in a ghastly jump exercise.

"God damn it, man, wake up." I became aware of the two orderlies, one shaking my pillow and the other pinching my toe. My throat was raw from screaming. The restraints held me tight to the bed frame. One of the men checked my meds record on my bed.

"He's at the limit. Just keep him calm."

The other one wiped my forehead. "Easy, fellow. You're safe here. No one can hurt you. Try to relax, okay?"

"Slow him down. He's hyperventilating."

"Aye. Easy man," he said strokng the hair on my head. "Heebie-jeebies working on you again, huh?" He smiled. "You're okay, we're here. No one is going to hurt you while we're together."

"My eyes. He hurt my eyes," I said, "Tore one out."

He smiled. "It's okay, gent. Full complement present. Look at me! Close one of your eyes. Now, how many fingers do you see?

"Two."

"Good," he said. "Now the other eye, same drill."

"Three, no two. It's two. Two, that's right isn't it?"

"Right as rain, chum. The doc'll double check but everything seems 4.0 here."

I was growing sleepy again and heard them discussing me in quiet whispers.

"... Tiger cage ... only him ... skeleton when we overran the camp."

"Son's of bitches ..."

"Oh yeah."

"Jezus, that was thirty years ago."

"More like fifty and he was in rehab at Wadsworth for two years after he came home.

"Well, he's quiet now. Let's hope he stays that way."

I heard the door close and dreaded the quiet. It was a soft dreamy cloud and everything seemed well.

Republic South Vietnam

I Corps West of Phu Bai near the DMZ

0900 Local +7UTC

09 June 1972

We had an early start, before dawn, and reaching the landing zone at first light

Orientation and checking the treeline went before we began our our patrol.

Sarge set the formation and the point man stepped out. Jocko was leading. I was the caboose and sweeper.

Patterson was still kidding me about my first walk into Indian country with the company. "Soft duty in the CAP. Tough being back with the real Marines after that soft hamlet duty."

"You have no idea what the duty was. Not soft at all. First we had to clear away the local commies in the village. While eating up the local Cong so they knew we were for real and staying." I said.

"Sounds pretty good to me, with regular quarters and limited duty."

I grinned. "Jealous? It was all qualified volunteers. After a couple of week's training, they'd assign you to a village. That's when the hard work began. We patrolled the perimeter and far enough out to keep the Cong clear. In between, it was arming and training the militia."

"Regulars?"

"Nope! It was the kids and old men, too young or too old for ARVN. Some of the women learned the weapns, too."

"We felt real good knowing we were protecting our people from Cong intimidation. It was a real disappointment when we had to leave them alone and join the rest of you guys in the highlands."

He shrugged and went quiet as we began the climb.

It was a hot day and the flak jacket was abrading my neck and shoulders. The neck and armholes always seemed tailored to scrape away at my skin, softened by the stinging perspiration when it ran down over the abrasions.

"Cong on the trail!"

I heard both M-i6s and AK-47s firing. We jumped, right and left, off the trail into the brush.. The AK stopped with the rest of us looking about.

The M16 firing stopped.

Someone was screaming. I couldn't see who. I knew Pat and McPherson went together side on the other side from mine. Doc Slayton was moving up toward Jocko.

Pat yelled outl "You guys, get over here and lend a hand. Mac needs help."

Alert and watching, I broke cover and crossed the trail toward them. Ten feet in, I saw three of the guys on the ground and reaching into a pit.

Doc was back, tool

"Jocko?" I asked

"Never knew what hit him. Who's there?"

"It's Mac," Pat said.

Doc looked in, then stood up and carefully slid into the pit, avoiding the punji stakes and breaking off others to reach Mac. Mac had fallen on three of the them. One through his abdoman's right side, one through his right shoulder and the other through his right leg. Some of the guys never buttoned up and this time it cost him. The stakes had pushed the vest aside before penetrating.

Doc looked up at us. "We need to lift him a bit so I can get at the base of those stakes." There wasn't room for anyonne else, so Pat and Donahue held me as I leaned farther into the pit and took Mac's left arm. We tipped him over enough that Doc could hack at the stakes. Done, we lifted him out. Lengle said a dustoff answered. It would rendezvous at a clearing two klicks back toward our jumping off. Clayton swung the smaller man over his shoulders after Doc plugged the holes. Mac was still snuffling and moaning even after Doc's Morphine.

"Hang in there buddy," I said, "Help's on the way."

He didn't answer. Gap-mouthed in pain, there was only the gasping moans and tears.

Mac died while waiting for the helo. We put him and Jocko in the Huey, watched it away, then prepared to follow up on our original patrol.

Janice was there to meet me with our car when they released me to outpatient status, and a bag full of medicines. The two attendents helped me out of the transfer chair and into our car.

At home, Janice took our chair out and unfolded it. Holding onto the car door, I was able to make it into the chair. In the living room, I settled into the front room recliner. Janice had made me some tea and brought it and my mint-chocolate cookies to me.

"Welcome home dear," and kissed me.

I started to cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't say that. You are here, and safe." She held my hand and sat beside me. "We are going to make it. Those animals are not going to ruin the rest of our lives. I love you."

Trying to sleep that night, I felt the warmth of her next to me and began to doze off. I felt an uncomfortable pain in my groin and sqirmed to relieve the pressure.

This bozo was smaller and meaner than the last Cong in charge of the camp. I was the first one he had lifted out of the cage. Strung up, with only my boonie trousers on, he began beating me with a bamboo pole. "Take down his pants," Bozo ordered. "Upend him." In that position he began beating on my genitals. The pain was incredible and I passed out. I came to back in the cage. I felt sick and could hardy move. They left me naked. I was apalled to see the scrotum swollen to the size of a basket ball. The testes hurt everytime I moved.

An impotent fury ran over me. Even more so, since I was powerless to do anything. I dreamed of having him in my clutches. I'd beat him to a pulp, then strangle him in stages as he lost and regained consciousness.

He was screaming now before I cut him off with the pressure on his windpipe.

"God damn you to hell, you bastard. How does that feel?" I hit him again and again until he was quiet. Exhausted, I collapsed over him.

I felt good, Bozo was dead. I was done. Free, then I realized I was in the entranceway hall walking toward the front door.

Then I knew where I was ... and what I had just done.

"Janice ...!"