There were three of them in the house. Waiting. Dave was coming home, finally. It'd been a year, three hundred sixty-five days of fearing if he'd come home alive and in one piece.
It was cold outside. Big soft flakes were falling. The ground already had several inches with a promise of more to come. Inside, it was a far different story. A fire was burning in the hearth, lighting up the room in a soft yellow glow. The table in the next room was set.
Dave was coming home tonight, home to stay, home for good. These people were his family, gathered to see him after his absence. They were gathered near the fire, smoking, drinking, talking, wondering when Dave would come home and what he'd be like.
Dave was expected at six. The snow made it eight. By the time he got there, no one was waiting at the window for him anymore. He knocked on the door, not knowing what to expect. All this was so new and yet so old. He'd grown up here, yet he wasn't the same as when he left for Vietnam a year ago. Dave wasn't quite sure who he was anymore.
He knocked on the door, softly, slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid he would wake someone. He heard footsteps inside. He felt his muscles tighten in his abdomen. "Why am I so afraid", he thought.
His father answered the door. "Dave!" was all he could say before the tears came. Big Bill Semmler saw the pain and fear in his son's eyes. Dave was not a small person, yet he felt smothered in his father's embrace. Big Bill felt a coldness that wasn't a part of his son when he last saw him. His mother heard the noise and came running, turning the lights on. Big Bill was in the process of releasing his son. Dave's mother gave him the same reception.
"Dave, let me look at you! How you've changed! You're nothing but skin and bones!" She was a small woman, barely coming up to Dave's shoulder. Tears fell as she hugged him. "I'll soon have you fattened up", she said, releasing him.
All Dave could bring himself to say was "Turn down the lights, Mom, they're hurting my eyes."
His hat and coat taken, Dave was guided into the living room, lit only by the fire. Dave's first words were "Please don't turn the lights up. My eyes are very sensitive to bright light."
Dave's sister, Julia, came downstairs to greet him.
"Why are all the lights off? Mom, is something wrong?"
"No, Jules, nothing other tan my eyes being very sensitive to bright light", said Dave. "Come and hug me."
Breaking away from Dave after a minute, she said "How are you, Dave? I mean, really how are you?"
"Truth?"
"Truth."
"I'm tired, bone tired. I'm scared. I'm not sure who I am. But I'm home now and I'm in one piece and you don't know how thankful I am for that."
"What happened to you over there, son?" asked Big Bill. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Dinner first", interrupted Mom. "There'll be plenty of time for talk."
"I'm really not hungry now, Mom. Can it wait?"
"But.."
"Loretta, if he's not hungry, let him be. He's been through enough, and he's old enough to know when he's hungry" said Big Bill.
'It's okay, Mom. I know you're looking out for me, but I just don't have an appetite. Probably too much excitement. And Dad, I would like to talk about it. To all of you, if you don't mind."
Dave's eyes slowly went from one person to the next, fearing he would find nothing there, but each seemed to be the person he remembered, and their eyes seemed to say they'd listen.
"The story I'm going to tell you is different, to say the least. It's important for me not to have any interruptions. Once I start, I don't want to have to stop. Okay?"
Three heads nodded assent.
"You know I was in combat. Even though I didn't talk about it much, I think you know it got kind of hairy at times. But this story takes place in a quiet time."
My company was near a place called Banmethuot, a city on the southwestern edge of the Central Highlands. The country was beautiful. The area was hilly but not mountainous and the rice paddies were few. It reminded me very much of the Great Smoky Mountains in North Carolina. It was November, just about a month and a half ago.
'Monsoon hadn't gotten into full swing yet and the fierce summer heat had gone. The sky was deep blue with soft puffy cumulus clouds floating slowly by. I don't know why I remember the sky so well, but for some reason it sticks in my head. So I figure it must be part of the story too."
"The hills were covered with large pines and soft green grass; very tranquil. I don't recall why we were there, but the area wasn't hot and that was enough. I wasn't about to argue."
"We'd been drifting in and out of a few small nearby villages, treating the people, making friends. Now these people were not the usual Vietnamese. They were Montagnard tribesmen. They called themselves the Dega. They were short and thin and looked like aborigines. Their skin was dark, almost black. Both male and female wore only loin cloths. The men carried spears and homemade crossbows and wore large brass earrings in their left ear. The Dega considered themselves a race apart and they sure looked it. They were fierce fighters and took no sides. They fought anyone who posed a threat to them, be they North Vietnamese, South Vietnamese or GIs.
"For the most part, we had made friends with them and they treated us well. I had dinner with one of the village chiefs which was considered a great honor. The meal left something to be desired. A chicken was killed for the occasion, but the meat wasn't added until the rice was almost cooked.
"It was not easy to eat; the chicken kind of slid around in my mouth, but I wasn't about to offend the chief. So I sat there and ate and smiled.
"While I was eating, a few other GIs had gotten drunk on rice wine and it had been a while since we'd seen any girls. Well, to make a long story short, three of them raped one of the village girls. They were caught in the act. The villagers got real upset. I had gone outside. Most of the GIs were gathered around in a circle. The Dega men surrounded us and it felt like Custer at the Little Big Horn, but we had automatic weapons against their crossbows.
"The chief came over and told our CO the three guilty GIs had to be turned over to him. the CO refused. The CO tried to explain they would be punished by the Army. The chief wouldn't have any of that. Things were heating up. You could feel it, a funny taste in your mouth, you know?
"Someone shot a Dega and that was all it took. By the time it was over, four warriors were shot along with the girl and two GIs had arrow wounds. One wasn't too bad, but the other GI died. We ran like hell away from that ville back to our own position. The chief was shouting something at us while we ran.
"We couldn't understand what he said, but we had a translator with us, called Dau. Dau was a VC who had turned himself in and worked with GIs now. He was scared out of his wits. Dau said the chief was a powerful man and had put a curse on us. No GI who was at the village would escape alive. Something about a tiger. We had heard tigers a few times and seen some tracks, but they had always left us alone.
"Around midnight, a few of us were awake, talking quietly, smoking and gazing up at the moon. On the far side of the perimeter, we heard a tiger. He was close and his roar triggered the fear in me. I mean fear, you know, fear so bad maybe it was worse than dying. I was on a rush. Seconds later, a scream pierced the air. I was hugging my rifle, ready to make love to it if I thought it would make a difference, when I saw this huge tiger carrying a GI away. I remember two things. One was the green eyes. Even from that distance I could see how deep green that tiger's eyes were. The other was that no one fired a shot. It happened so fast!
"Dawn came and the CO sent out a patrol to look for the tiger and the GI. We found a lot of blood, but no tiger and no GI. We were really scared, but we talked tough. Bad dudes alright, on the outside; crying for our mamas on the inside. We thought of the curse, but no one had the courage to say it out loud.
"Night fell. We were ready this time. Our defenses were tripled. There were mines all over the perimeter. Everyone had their fire lanes marked and their frags out. Nothing that could walk, crawl or fly could make it through to us and live.
"The full moon was out again. It lit up the jungle in a strange glow, like in a dream, or a nightmare. Exactly at midnight, a tiger roared. I heard movement in the brush and then, boommmmm!, a claymore went off. I saw a ball of fire the size of this room. The air shook. I was scared, but I felt good. Nothing could live through that claymore.
"Then I felt movement. I turned my head. The tiger was fifteen feet from me. It looked around, slowly, quietly. It owned us and it knew it. I didn't want those green eyes to see me. I ducked down. I heard motion, then a scream. I raised my head enough to see the tiger running away, carrying a GI like he was a rabbit.
"M-16s were going off all over the perimeter. I could have sworn some hit the tiger, but he never stopped, never slowed down, never bled.
"None of us slept the rest of the night. When morning came, we wanted out. Gone, Dad. Far, far away. Send me to LBJ, but get me the hell out of there. The CO felt the fear too. He called Higher Higher, but the big man said our presence there was necessary, vital even. We were dead men. We knew the tiger would be back. We couldn't leave and we couldn't stay.
"Paradise became hell. The jungle seemed to close in on us. It wanted us; not just the meat, the soul too. I was shaking.
"A friend of mine, Ralph, came up with the idea that the beast was a were-tiger. Kind of like a werewolf, but since there were no wolves here, it had to be a tiger.
Dave stopped and looked at them. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. This is some crazy shit, alright. Sorry, Mom, but you weren't there. So just listen, okay? There's not much more.
"Ralph said he had read about werewolves and knew they could only be killed by silver. I don't know why; I guess it's part of the legend. Ralph and I collected all the silver we could find. Everyone was so scared they were willing to try anything. They gladly gave up religious medals, wedding rings, you name it.
"Ralph made a fire and melted it all down. We only had enough for two bullets. We spent hours trying to fashion them into the cartridges. We finished just before dark.
"First came the moon, then the roar, then the tiger. It came out of nowhere. It was in the middle of our position! It grabbed a GI and we poured lead into that son of a bitch! It didn't bleed, but it slowed a little. Enough for Ralph to take careful aim at close range. He hit the tiger in the neck. Man, did that thing howl! The firing stopped. That thing fixed Ralph with those green eyes. You know, I used to like that color green, but now it just means hate to me, you know. This tiger's hate was so strong you could feel it ooze out of him. Ralph fired again, and hit it in the chest.
"That howl again! Jesus, I can still hear it echoing in my head. The tiger dropped the GI. It writhed around, smoking and hissing. I was scratched by its claws as it twisted and turned on itself. The scratches were gone by morning.
"I swear to you, as God is my witness, that damn thing changed shape! When the smoke cleared, what was left lying there was the village chief, dead from neck and chest wounds.
"When morning came, we were all just a bit gone, you know? So we agreed to take an oath of silence. Who would believe a story like this?
"We had to leave the GI who was bitten by the tiger before we killed it. The villagers took him in. The CO listed him missing in action.
"I guess that's it. That's enough, though, I think.
Quiet followed. No one knew what to say.
Big Bill went first. "Dave, I know you've been through one hell of a lot. I'm not calling you a liar, I know better. But I'm having a real hard time with this story. What do you say we sleep on it?"
The four exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement among them. The tension in the room eased a bit.
"Dave, honey, please won't you eat something now?"
"Sure, Mom, I am getting hungry."
The four faces smiled at each other. And in the dim light of the room, father, mother and sister saw a deep green glint come from deep in Dave's eyes.
Last Updated January 7, 2007
All original material © Mike Dubrick 1980-2007. All rights reserved.
