“But, sir,” I says, “maybe can’t we just leave him out in the desert an let him find his own way back?”
“Much as I’d like to, that would be inhumane,” General Scheisskopf says piously. “Tell you what though, just get him within four or five miles of Baghdad—so’s he can see it himself, an then turn his ass loose.”
“FOUR OR FIVE MILES!” we all shouted. But like the man said, orders was orders.
Anyway, we gassed up an got somethin to eat at the chow tent an saddled up the tank for our return trip. By this time it was gettin night, but we figgered at least it might not be so hot. Sergeant Kranz brought Saddamn Hussein a big ole plate of greasy pork chops, but he say he don’t care for any, so hungry or not, off we went.
It was quite a spectacle out in the desert, which was lit up like a stadium from all the awl fires burnin. We made pretty good time though, considerin havin to dodge all the junk left over from the whole damn A-rab army. Seems that while they was occupying Kuwait, they had also occupied some of the Kuwait people’s things—like their furniture an their Mercedes-Benzes an such, but when they left in such a hurry, they didn’t bother to take them with them.
The ride back to Baghdad was actually kind of borin, an to pass the time I took the gag out of ole Saddamn’s mouth to see what he had to say. When I tole him we was takin him home, he begun to cry an shout an pray again cause he figgered we was lyin an was gonna kill him. But finally we settled him down an he begun to believe us, though he could not understand why we was doin this. Lieutenant Dan tole him it was a “gesture of goodwill.”
I piped up an tole Saddamn I was friends with the Ayatolja Koumani, an in fact had once transacted some bidness with him.
“That ole fart,” Saddamn says, “he has caused me a lot of trouble. I hope he roasts in hell an has to eat tripe an pickled pigs’ feet for the rest of eternity.”
“I can see you are a man of great Christian charity,” says Lieutenant Dan.
To this, Saddamn has no response.
Pretty soon, we could see the lights of Baghdad in the distance. Dan slowed down the tank to hide the noise.
“Well, that’s about five miles, as I make it,” says Dan.
“It is not,” says Saddamn. “It’s more like seven or eight.”
“That’s your tough luck, buster. We got other shit to do, so this is as far as you go.”
With that, Sergeant Kranz an me hoisted Saddamn out of the tank. Then Sergeant Kranz, he made Saddamn take off all his clothes, except for his boots an his little beret. Then he pointed him at Baghdad.
“On your way, you degenerate turd,” says Sergeant Kranz, an he give ole Saddamn a big kick in the ass. Last we seen of him, he was joggin across the desert, tryin to cover hissef in front an behind.
Now we are headed back to Kuwait, an everthin seems to be goin smoothly, more or less. Though I am missin little Forrest, at least me an Lieutenant Dan an Sue is back together again, an besides, I figger my army hitch is almost up.
It is almost pitch black dark inside the tank an ain’t no sounds cept the noise of the engine, an the instrument panels is glowin faint red in the dark.
“Well, Forrest, I reckon we have seen our last war,” says Dan.
“I hope so,” I says.
“War is not a pretty thing,” he goes on, “but when the time comes to fight it, it is us who have to go. We are the professional army. The shit-shovelers in peacetime, but it’s ‘Tommy get yer rifle, when the drums begin to beat...’ Saviors of your country an all that crap.”
“Well, maybe that’s true of you an Sergeant Kranz,” I says, “but me an Sue, here, we are peace-lovin folks.”
“Yeah, but when the balloon goes up, you’re there every time,” says Dan. “And don’t you think I don’t appreciate it.”
“I’ll sure be glad when we’re home,” I says.
“Uh oh,” Dan says.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Uh oh.’ ” He is staring into the instrument screen.
“Whassamatter?” ast Sergeant Kranz.
“We locked on to.”
“What? Who?”
“Somebody’s got us locked on. Aircraft. I imagine it must be one of ours.”
“One of ours?”
“Yeah, they ain’t got any Iraqi air force left.”
“But why?” I ast.
“Uh oh!” Dan says again.
“What?”
“They have fired!”
“At us?”
“Who else,” Dan says. He had begun to spin the tank aroun when there is a huge explosion that literally blew the tank apart. All of us is thowed ever which way, an the cabin is filled with smoke an fire.
“Out! Out!” Dan screams, an I pulled mysef out the hatch an reached back for Sergeant Kranz right behind me. He come out an I reached for ole Sue, but he was lyin in back of the cabin, hurt an pinned down by somethin. So I leaned in to grap Dan, but he can’t reach my hand. For a instant we looked in each other’s eyes, an he says, “Damn, Forrest, we almost made it...”
“C’mon, Dan!” I shout. The flames is all over the cabin by now an the smoke thicker an thicker. I kep reachin way down to get him, but it wadn’t no use. He kinda smiled an looked up at me. “Well, Forrest, we have had ourselfs a hell of a war, haven’t we?”
“Hurry, Dan, grap holt of my hand,” I screamed.
“See you around, pal” is all he says, an then the tank blowed up.
It blowed me in the air an singed me up a little, otherwise I was not much hurt. I couldn’t believe it, though. I got up an just stood there, watchin the tank burn up. I wanted to go back an try to get em out, but I knew it wadn’t no good. Me an the sergeant, we waited a while, until the tank had burned itself out, an then he says, “Well, c’mon, Gump. We got a long walk home.”
All the way back across the desert that night I felt so terrible I couldn’t even bring mysef to cry. Two of the best friends a man ever had—an now they are gone, too. It is a loneliness almost too sad to believe.
They had a little service for Lieutenant Dan an Sue at the air base where our fighter planes was. I couldn’t help but think that one of them pilots was responsible for all this, but I guess he must of felt pretty bad about it hissef. After all, we wadn’t sposed to of been out there, cept we had to return Saddamn to Baghdad.
They had a pair of flag-covered caskets lined up on the tarmac, an they shimmered in the heat of the mornin. Wadn’t anythin in em, though. Fact was, they wadn’t enough left of Dan an Sue to fill a can of beans.
Sergeant Kranz an me was in the little group, an one time he turned to me an says, “Ya know, Gump, them was good soldiers, them two. Even the ape. It never showed no fear.”
“Probly too dumb to understand it,” I says.
“Yeah, probly. Kinda like you, huh?”
“I spose.”
“Well, I’m gonna miss em,” Sergeant Kranz says. “We had ourselfs a helluva ride.”
“Yup,” I says, “I reckon.”
After a chaplain said a little somethin, they had a band that played taps an a rifle squad that fired a twelve-gun salute. An then it was over.
Afterward, General Scheisskopf come up an put his arm aroun my shoulder. I guess he could see I was finally beginnin to get little bitty tears in my eyes.
“I’m sorry about this, Private Gump,” he says.
“So’s everbody else,” I tole him.
“Look, these fellers was friends of yours, I understand. We couldn’t find any military records on them.”
“They was volunteers,” I said.
“Well,” says the general, “maybe you’d want to take these.” One of his aides come up with two little cans, got tiny plastic American flags pasted on the tops.
“Our graves registration people thought it would be appropriate,” General Scheisskopf says.