“Gump, you idiot!” he shouts. “They warned me about you! What is the meaning of this? You have caused some kind of international incident!”
In this, he was correct, but I didn’t have no time to think about that now! Sergeant Kranz, he was poundin hissef on the knee with his fist an was all gray in the face an hollerin somethin about us bein put on “permanent tank-tread duty,” when I caught sight of Gretchen, up in the stands.
She waved for me to come up there, an then she took me by the hand an dragged me into the street.
“I don’t know what you have done, Forrest, but I will tell you this—they are tearing down the Berlin Wall, and for the first time in thirty years our country will not be divided. Perhaps I can even see again my own family, ja?”
Well, Gretchen an me, we hid in a alley for a while, an then she took me to a house of some of her friends, which was kinda embarrassin, considerin my dress. But they was all excited, account of the television was showin the East Germans tearin down the big ole Berlin Wall an dancin in the streets an everthin. They seemed to have forgot about me costin em the World Cup soccer match, an everbody was happy an kissin an huggin each other.
Anyhow, Gretchen an me, we spent the night with each other for the first time, an for some reason, I didn’t feel guilty afterwards. I kinda half expected Jenny to show up again, an when I was walkin down the hall to the bathroom, I sort of felt like she was watchin me, but she never did show hersef.
Chapter Eleven
Wellsir, Gretchen an me caught a train back to Oogamooga or whatever it is that we lived, an when I got to the post, a surprise was in store for me. The post commander done took me off tank tread cleanin duty an put me on permanent latrine duty, right out of No Time for Sergeants.
He is furious because, as he say, what I have done is probably put him out of a job.
“Gump, you moron,” shouts the post commander, “do you realize what has happened because of your screw-ups? The Germans have torn down their wall and now everbody’s talkin about the end of communism!”
“Just look at what The New York Times has to say about this!” he hollers, and hands me the paper.
DIMWIT SECURES END OF COLD WAR, says the headline.
What was apparently an accidental football punting mistake has led to what some experts believe will be the end of the nearly fifty-year-long breach between the East and West.
Sources told the Times that a U.S. Army private named Forrest Gump allegedly miskicked a football during an interservice playoff game in Germany, yesterday, which sailed across the Berlin Wall and landed in midfield on East German territory during the final seconds of the World Cup soccer match between East Germany and the Soviet Union.
The sources said that Mr. Gump then scaled the wall to retrieve the errant football, which had by that time created a disturbance in the soccer match. Irate soccer fans, estimated at 85,000 to 100,000 strong, then proceeded to chase Mr. Gump, with the apparent intention of doing him bodily harm.
Mr. Gump, who has been described as mentally retarded, fled back to the wall and began to climb over into West German territory. Sources said the soccer fans, in their efforts to apprehend Mr. Gump, pursued him across the wall and in the process began to dismantle the barrier which has stood as a symbol of Communist oppression for several decades.
Subsequently, joyous Berliners of all political persuasions joined hands in tearing down the wall and ultimately held what sources described as “the world’s largest free-floating street party and beer bash.”
In the confusion, Mr. Gump apparently escaped unharmed.
The final score of the East Berlin-Soviet Union soccer match was a 3 to 3 tie. The score of the American football game at the time of its disruption was not immediately available.
“Gump, you numbnuts,” the post commander says, “we got no more communism, we got no more reason to be here! Even the goddamn Russians are talkin about givin up communism! Who in hell are we gonna fight if we ain’t got the communists to fight? You have rendered this whole army superfluous! Now they will send our asses home to some godforsaken post in Palookaville and we will lose the best duty we could of dreamed of, which is right here in a quaint village in the German Alps! Gump, you have destroyed a soldier’s dream—you must be out of your mind!”
He goes on like that for a while, poundin on his desk an thowin shit around the headquarters, but I get the drift of what his argument is, an it ain’t doin much good to argue with it. Anyway, I gone on down to the latrine an assumed my new duties, which is to constantly scrub ever tile with a toothbrush an some bathroom cleanser. Sergeant Kranz, for his association with me, is given the task of wipin up behind me with Spic and Span, an he is none too happy about that, neither.
“We never had it so good, cleanin them tank treads” is the way he puts it.
Once a week, on Sundays, I get a pass to go into town, but the post commander have ordered two MPs to escort me everwhere I go, an to not let me out of their sight. This, of course, makes it somewhat hard for me to have a decent relationship with Gretchen, but we done the best we could. It was now generally too cold to go on picnics up in the mountains, as the Alps become chilly in the winter. Most of the time, we gone into the beer hall an set at a table an just held hands while the MPs was glarin at us from nearby.
Gretchen is really a nice person, an does not wish to spend the rest of her life as a beer maid, but she don’t know what else to do. She is very beautiful, but say she thinks life’s done pretty much passed her by.
“I am too old to be a model,” she says, “und too young to give up on everything else. Maybe I’ll go to university. I want to make something of myself.”
“Yeah,” I says, “that would be good. I went to the university once.”
“Ja, Forrest? Und what did you study?”
“Football,” I says.
“Ach!”
Good things, as my mama Gump used to say, are not meant to last forever, an this was no exception.
It wadn’t before too long when the post commander called us all to the parade ground, an made an announcement.
“Men, there is the good news and the bad news.”
At this, they was some low mumblin from the troops.
“The bad news,” he says, “is for those of you cowards who are just drawin your pay and do not wish to perform your duties as soldiers.”
They was some more mumblin.
“The good news is, for those of you who wish to start killin an dyin—which, if you din’t know, is your bidness—you are gonna be afforded ever opportunity—thanks to some sombitch called Saddamn Hussein, who is the A-rab in charge of Iraq, an who has now started a war with our own commander-in-chief, the United States of America President George Herbert Walker Bush.”
At this, some of the mumblin turned to cheerin.
“And,” the commander says, “we are all gonna go over to Iraq an whip his heathen ass!”
So that’s what we did.
The night before we left I got a pass to go see Gretchen for a last time. She has just saved up enough money to enter the university, an in fact is takin her first classes. I waited outside the schoolroom for her to come out.
“Oh, Forrest,” she says, “it is so wonderful! I am studying English!”
We helt hands an walked for a while, an then I tole her what was goin on. She didn’t scream or carry on or nothin, she just hugged my arm tighter an said she figgered this kind of thing would happen one day.