Part 31 (1/2)
Donny surrept.i.tiously took a swig from a can of lighter fluid and held it in his mouth.
Prince Funelda went into his spraddle-legged, knee-waggling posture in front of Donny. He was just starting the kissy lips when Donny pulled his Zippo from his s.h.i.+rt pocket, quickly flicked it, and blew a ten-foot tongue of flame that licked the Fire Eater's body from anklet to crown.
Prince Funelda squawked and leaped into the air like a hot-footed ostrich. His dance suddenly became more frenzied as he slapped and ran his hands over the little flames on his crotch and ankles as the imitation palm fronds lit up. He leaped and spun and squeaked. The horrified MC jumped from the stage and chased after his spinning lover.
The tape continued the loud war dance. The fat guitarist, delighted at what he saw (”serves that b.i.t.c.h right”), laughed so hard his folding chair folded and he went down like a fat mouse in a trap. The pilots were performing what looked like a dance of their own as they hopped and rolled around in jerks and stomps, some on their feet doubled up in helpless laughter; others lay paralyzed on the floor.
A GIB from the 433rd, struck with a brilliant thought, ran from the room and returned in seconds with a fire hose that had a two-inch nozzle. If nothing else, the USAF Civil Engineers kept their emergency fire equipment in top shape, and backed up with hundreds of pounds of pressure.
”Make way, make way,” the GIB shouted, snaking the hose through, around, and over the spastic a.s.semblage.
”To the rescue,” a buddy shouted, and grabbed some hose to back up the erstwhile nozzleman. They reached the center of the floor, aimed the nozzle at the leaping Prince of Fire, and rotated the bra.s.s handle backward. A jet of water capable of knocking down an elephant at ten feet struck the fire-eater full on his crotch and bowled him into the audience, which quickly split like the Red Sea. The two GIBs ran behind, spraying with the hose, propelling the spitting and screaming Prince along the floor like kids shooting leaves across the yard with a hose. His MC lover ran after the two GIBs, screeching and pulling at their clothes. The Prince rolled to the door, rose to his knees against great pressure, and flung it open.
Standing there, hand outstretched for the doork.n.o.b, poised to walk in and see what the commotion was all about, stood the commander of the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, Colonel of the Air Force Stanley D. Bryce.
Before the horrified GIBs could deflect the stream, the hose took him full in the chest and flattened him against the corridor wall.
0900 HOURS LOCAL, WEDNESDAY 7 FEBRUARY 1968.
LuiisON Office OF THE JUDGE ADVOCATE GENERAL, HQ, MACV SAIGON, REPUBLIC OF VIETNAM.
”Tell me the whole story, start to finish,” Major Jay Denroe said to Wolf Lochert. Denroe was from the Judge Advocate General's office at USARV, the United States Army Republic of Vietnam, based at Long Binh, twenty kilometers from Saigon. Although MACV was in charge of the in-country war, USARV had court-martial authority over United States Army personnel in Southeast Asia. Based on the results of an Article 32 investigation, the Commanding General of USARV could recommend whether or not a court-martial should be convened.
Denroe wore Army khakis with the JAG insignia. He was a thin man, spa.r.s.e, almost skeletal, and stood two inches under six feet. His uniform could not disguise the sharp angles of his hips and knees. His dark brown hair was cut close to his skull. They were in a small briefing room that held a long metal conference table with a 16mm movie projector resting on one end. A screen stood on a six-foot tripod crosswise in a corner farthest from the projector.
”I've told everybody the whole story,” Lieutenant Colonel Wolfgang X.
Lochert said. He wore jungle fatigues with subdued (black thread st.i.tching) rank, CIB, and jump wings.
”You have it right there.” He indicated the papers lying on the lawyer's briefcase. An Army Criminal Investigation Division team had conducted the investigation under the command of the Article 32 investigating officer, a full colonel appointed by USARV. Based on the evidence, the colonel had recommended to USARV that Lochert be court-martialed for murder. USARV had agreed that Wolf be tried for murder under Article 118 in a general court-martial. The investigation had been completed with uncommon speed.
”I know, but I want to hear it from you one more time.
There may be something somebody has missed.”
Wolf Lochert sighed. He stood up and walked to the window overlooking the MACV compound. Soldiers in neatly starched and pressed khakis and fatigues walked the concrete paths with brisk and deliberate steps. Rays of suns.h.i.+ne shone through breaks in the low clouds as the early morning showers dissipated.
He related the story of that day in the driving rain when he had killed Huey Dan. He told it quietly and without pa.s.sion.
”Then,” he concluded, ”I was arrested when I returned to Quang Tri from an operation.”
”On a murder charge.”
”Yes. On a murder charge.” Lochert flexed his hands and resumed looking out the window.
”Were you read your rights?”
”Yes.”
”Were you surprised at being arrested?”
”Of course I was surprised.” Wolf Lochert glared. ”I acted in self-defense against a North Vietnamese agent who tried to kill me. I never gave it another thought. Why wouldn't I be surprised to be up for murder? I have killed other Vietnamese, you know. This is a war. And I had no idea these films would be shown all over the world.”
”Or that people would be crying for your head? Colonel Lochert, let's review the film. Do you mind pulling the blind9” Wolf pulled the blind as Jay Denroe turned on the movie projector. The screen started with printed numbers counting down to 1, then the action began.
It picked up where Wolf had pulled Huey Dan onto his stiletto as they'd gone down. It showed clearly the point protruding from his back, Wolf pulling the stiletto out, cleaning it, and tucking it in a sock. The camera steadied as Wolf Lochert stood over the body for a moment, then picked it up and flung it against the tree. Portrayed in awful clarity was Wolf's terrible grimace as the camera zoomed on his face. After that were jumbled pictures, then the scenes of the scuffling between Wolf and Hernins.
”Do you have any idea if Mal Hemms was filming when Huey Dan attacked you?”
”I don't think so. As I told you, I didn't notice any camera until after I-after I threw that b.a.s.t.a.r.d into the tree. It was raining. I was ... angry.”
”Did you see anyone else in the area that might have seen what happened?”
Jay Denroe picked up a thick folder from the table. ”Here are copies of the text that accompanied the film on the various TV stations, the headlines in the newspapers the day after it was aired, and a cross-section of the letters written to editors, congressmen, and the Department of the Army about you.” He withdrew a sheaf of papers and laid them on the table. Wolf pawed through them. Although the headings and t.i.tles varied, the majority indeed called for his head.
”The point is, Colonel Lochert,” Denroe continued, ”failing to obtain film of Huey Dan's attack on you-and there is no such film-then we need something tying him into the other side. Members.h.i.+p or rank in the Viet Cong or the North Vietnamese Army. Do you have any evidence whatsoever of such an affiliation?”
”No.”
”I realize I'm new to the case, and new to Special Forces methodology,”
Denroe said, ”but tell me, at any time before his attack, did you ever suspect Huey Dan of being an agent for the other side?”
”No, not an agent, but I began to have some doubts about his enthusiasm for the job with MACSOG.”
”Did you do anything about it?”
”Yes. I told my boss, Al Charles, that I didn't think Huey Dan was working as hard as he used to and that ... that I no longer trusted him.”
”Why not?”
”Nothing I could put my finger on. There were too many strange things happening that prevented us from accomplis.h.i.+ng the mission. I usually had far more success with my missions before I took on Huey Dan.”
”What took you so long to feel, well, strange about him?
Why didn't you suspect him long before he tried to kill you?”
”On our first operation he killed several NVA soldiers to save my life.
He could have killed me then. Instead he called in a rescue helicopter.
On later operations he could have killed me many times.”
”Do you know why he did not?”
”I do now. He wanted to kill me under the same tree, with the same knife that I used to kill the man he said was his son.”
”Were you ever apprehended or charged for the death of his son?”
'No .