Many Marines served in Vietnam and returned home... many didn’t. For the ones that did, life as they knew it before Vietnam would never be the same. Some vets say that the ones that died were the lucky ones, because some of those that survived would go on to become known as “the walking wounded.” For them, the war will never end. And, the battlefield wouldn’t be on some desolate hill in the jungles of Vietnam. It would be in their minds. These men would find refuge, years later, in Veteran’s hospitals across the country. Some would win the internal battle, while others were doomed to end up as its casualty-—waging their own war in their own way. Jack Clark was one of them.
Jack Clark returned home as the town hero. The small village of Mill Valley, New York gave him a welcome home parade. He served his four years as a Marine and was honorably discharged. He was proud to wear his uniform one last time at the welcoming home party. Many of his high school buddies admired his medals and decorations--which included a purple heart and a bronze star for bravery. This was the mid-sixties and there were those draft protesters who considered returning GIs as: "killers of women and babies.” Some of them spit on Jack’s uniform. He excused them for their ignorance, but the insult still hurt deep.
He didn’t want to talk much about the war, so he would change the subject when asked to tell the details of his awards. He had changed a lot from being the school clown and the always talkative country boy that he once was--although that was only five short years prior. Now he was quieter and more withdrawn. He didn’t quite look the same either; his faced took on a more stern and serious look. Smoking and drinking were now habits he acquired in the Marine Corps.
After a couple of months of summertime picnicking and fishing at some of his old fishing holes in the Catskill mountains, he settled in and tried to fit in. He got a job working for one of his brothers in construction and eventually went out on his own as a carpenter and handyman. It was a struggle for the first year back, and the work wasn’t coming his way often enough to make a living. The snowy winter weather made it more difficult, so he had thoughts of changing the scenery and moving out to warmer weather on the west coast of California and possibly getting a job building sets at the movie studios, and maybe even try acting in movies.
He saved up enough money for a one way ticket to LA by train, and he was on his way. When he arrived in sunny California, he took a bus ride to Hollywood, because that was where the big movie studios were located. After settling down in a cheap, seedy hotel room, on the south end of Sunset and Vine streets, in the (Hotel Brevort); he set out to get a job and familiarize himself with the surrounding area of central Hollywood. It didn’t take long for him to get acclimated. That same week he got a job working as a delivery man for a popular florist shop on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. It was an exciting job delivering flowers to all those movie stars in their mansions and estates. Their generous tips made it possible for him to move up to a more spacious apartment. Things seemed to be going very well, now that he had money to spend and was making new friends among the old-Hollywood in-crowed.
Being a former Marine gave him an in with many of the aging movie stars. They admired his “chutzpah”--as George Peppard once told him, while interviewing him to be his chauffeur and right-hand-man. George was a former Marine himself. During the long interview, George and Jack finished off a bottle of Jack Danials and a pack of Camel cigarettes, while George's wife, Elizabeth Ashley, prepared some snacks in the kitchen. George's final advice to Jack was: "Make up your mind... Marine, whether you want to be an actor, or a domestic servant...and come back when you decide. The offer is always open."
This was the time period of the turbulent sixties. It ushered in the birth of a counter-culture in America; the "hippie" generation. Their protests against the war in Vietnam plagued the country with violence and bloodshed, and also sparked off numerous race riots--most notably in California. The movie business was turning its attention to the war in Vietnam and all the news channels were bombarding the airwaves with constant scenes of the war carnage and daily "body-counts". Everywhere there were reminders of the escalating war; on the radio, on the TV, and even on billboards. This began to play on Jack’s mind. The flashbacks and nightmares were becoming more frequent and more severe. These were fueled by the alcohol abuse and psychotropic drugs that the VA was administering to him.
There were nights when he would awaken from a nightmare vision of his being blown into the air from the mortar blast that wounded him on a beach landing near Da Nang. He would be shaking violently and his heart beat would race so fast that he thought it would explode and he'd die. At times he would have to take a taxi to the Veteran’s hospital in Santa Monica, because he didn’t think he would make it through the night. These episodes came more often as time went by. The doctors diagnosed him with a severe case of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). They gave him drugs and antidepressants to stabilize him. Some vets called this treatment (the thorazine shuffle). When he was feeling better he’d hitch-hike a ride back to his apartment in Hollywood.
Jack made it a daily routine to have breakfast at a Denny’s restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard. On one particular day, he met an aging, over-the-hill actor whom he befriended and they became good drinking buddies. Bob was one of those actors who liked boozing and skirt-chasing, more than his film career. He was a burly, ruggedly handsome, Shakespearean type actor with a charming and witty sense of humor. He had a habit of rolling his own cigarettes--one that Jack
would occasionally mimic.
They spent many nights making the rounds of Bob's old haunts on Sunset Boulevard, like the Whisky A-Go-Go and the Polo Club in Beverly Hills. Sometimes Jack got so drunk he would get flashbacks in the bars and Bob would have to restrain him from throwing glasses at the bartenders--as if they were hand grenades. The drinking brought on the flashbacks and that always ruined a good evening. This problem got even worse when Bob introduced him to marijuana and cocaine. Now the flashbacks became more severe. The nightmares were now interfering with his being on time for work and eventually he lost his job at the florist shop. He was now surviving on what money he had saved from salary and tips.
One hot summer night, Bob took Jack to a party that one of his producer friends was having for some aging movie queen who was writing her memoirs, in a book titled (Ecstasy and Me). There was the usual plate of cocaine on the coffee table along with other select drugs. As the party rolled on into the wee hours, Bob grabbed Jack and brought him in to a back room to meet an old flame of his, he introduced her as Hedy Lamarr; she turned out to be the author of the book.
They cozied up on a large bed and while Bob was making out with Hedy, Jack was nursing a bottle of bourbon and feeling the rush from the cocaine he snorted earlier. The dark, smoke filled room was beginning to close in on Jack. He started to get the shakes and sweats. His mind began playing flashbacks. He started thinking that he was in a fox hole in the jungle and that Bob and Hedy were the Vietcong. Then his mind drifted to the wounds in his side and back. He curled up into the fetal position on the floor and began yelling and screaming: “Medic…Medic…Medic!” A couple of men came in and with Bob’s help they wrestled him out to Bob’s car. The pain in Jack’s groin was so severe that he was vomiting blood. Bob knew that he had to get him to the VA hospital quick. He drove as fast as possible down Wilshire Blvd. to the Brentwood VA hospital.
They arrived at the hospital and Jack was so lethargic that Bob had to get the emergency staff to wheel him in. A couple of brawny, white jacketed night attendants took him and told Bob that it would be better for him to leave because they were going to admit Jack to the psyche-ward across the street; and that he would probably be there for a while. They had recognized Jack from his previous visits there.
By the time they reached the psyche- ward barracks, Jack was seeing and thinking a little clearer. As the two attendants ushered him in to the lock-ward, he noticed a photo tacked up on a large bulletin board at the hallway entrance. The photo was of an attendant who was supposedly murdered in the back of the ward a week earlier. The note read: [Anyone with information or knowledge of this murder; please notify the front office--it will be kept confidential.]
The head nurse signed Jack in and assigned him to his own room at end of the hall. Along the way, she introduced herself in an intimidating way: "Around here, they call me 'Mother'". She was a tall blonde and looked like a football line-backer with her broad shoulders and muscular arms. Once in the room, Jack just fell back on the steel framed military cot, appreciating the solitude, and slowly passed into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, it was morning and the warm California sun was streaming through the steel bars of the caged windows. After a few days of getting familiar with the ward and the daily routine, he was briefed by the staff, that he would be locked in this ward for at least a month and that with drugs and therapy, he might be released when he was found to be “stable.” Lithium and clonopin were some of the drugs he was administered. The lithium had him urinating frequently and occasionally he wouldn’t make it to the urinal in time. A couple of weeks passed and he got acquainted with some of the patients; as they would all meet every morning in the so-called “day room” to start the day and plan activities. He was liked immediately by the group and they decided to vote him as their choice for the next group leader. The group consisted of both male and female. Jack was feeling more at home now and he was encouraged by the patients looking up to him. He had a knack for leading.
On one particular morning, a new man entered the group and the psychiatrists introduced him: “This is Tony Stryker…he is our new group member. Let’s welcome him!” Tony had the look of a man whom you didn’t want to cross. He was tall, dark haired, athletically built, and his facial features were stern and punctuated by his piercing blue eyes that had a disturbing look. He didn’t speak much; he just nodded his head. It became obvious that he did not like Jack. If looks could kill, his would. He was wearing full combat fatigues and an Army ranger’s hat with the black ace-of-spades held in the hat's band. For some reason, they allowed him to dress his way. Jack knew instinctively that he should keep his distance. After the meeting, one of the attendants warned Jack that this man was dangerous and that they gave him certain privileges because it was suspected that he had connections with the CIA. And, that he was a frequent "in-house/out-patient" there.
That night, after returning from the mess hall dinner, there was a knock on Jack’s door. It was the buxom, blonde nurse (affectionately called "mother"). She had Tony Stryker alongside. She said: “This is Tony Stryker, and HE is going to be YOUR roommate.” Tony went over to the other bunk and threw his sea bag in the corner. He didn’t say a word and just laid on the bunk pulling his ranger hat over his eyes. Jack ignored his indignant attitude and felt that his own solitude had been intruded upon and wondered: "Of all rooms; why my room?" The night went without incident, but it was obvious that trouble was brewing.
The next day, after lunch and some exercise, Jack returned to his bunk to read from a Bible that someone left in the room. On the fly page, someone had scribbled his name and wrote a little poem that ended with the words: (good by—Semper Fi). The silence was broken when Tony Stryker entered the room in a rush and ran over to his sea bag. He reached in and grabbed a stack of notes and photos wrapped with some rubber bands. He sat on his bunk for a moment contemplating. Then he got up and walked over to Jack, who pretended not to be paying attention. He looked down on him and said: “Can I sit and talk?” Jack nodded cautiously. Tony said: “Look…I don’t like you, and probably you don’t like me…that’s ok. Let’s make the best of it.” He unwrapped the stack and showed Jack a picture of his wife and two kids, whom he said were living in Manhattan. Jack acknowledged that they were all beautiful. Tony told him that they don’t communicate much because of his “bad habit” and that one day he hoped to be cured. He didn’t explain the “bad habit.” He related to James about how he had special privileges from higher-ups because they used him for tactical training of guerrilla troops in war torn countries like Cambodia. He explained that he was a specialist at what he did--killing the enemy! They exchanged stories of long range night missions in the jungles of Nam. After smoking a cigarette together, they parted company.
In the days to follow, they would occasionally chat--shoot the shit, as they called it--and then go to the mess hall together. Jack was getting to know more and more about this soldier’s background and activities. Some of which he would rather have not known. Tony explained why he always dresses in full combat fatigues. It was because he had to be ready at any moment to be flown out on a mission somewhere in the world. He also said that he needed the “adrenaline rush” that his exploits gave him. He mentioned that he and the head nurse had a special relationship and that is why he referred to her as “mother.” Finally, Tony had to warn Jack that if anything they shared got to “other ears,” that he would have to kill him. He said: “Don’t take it personally. You know that is the way it has to be…don’t you?” Jack responded: “I do.”
Now it became obvious to Jack that the “bad habit” that kept Tony estranged from his family was this “adrenaline rush” that he was addicted to. It’s what happens in the heat of battle. He felt sorry for him and at the same time was grateful that his addictions were not near as bad as Tony Stryker’s. He also began to wonder if there was any connection between the murdered attendant and Tony's “bad habit.” This thought worried him.
The next day, everyone gathered in the day room as usual. However, Tony Stryker was missing. No one seemed to miss him though. That afternoon, Jack made acquaintance with this fairly attractive female patient named Rachael. They shot pool in the recreation room and later had dinner together. She took a liking to him and they spent the evening going to the in-house AA meeting together. Sex in the ward was strictly prohibited so they kept a safe distance from each other but their friendship got stronger. She was discharged from the Army because of her addiction to drugs and alcohol. Somewhere along the way, she met and got married to an abusive husband then got divorced. The husband happened to be a wealthy Hollywood director. She told Jack all about it and even how she made a lucrative divorce settlement for millions of dollars. She said that her reason for the Veteran’s hospital visit was because it helped her to be grounded and she liked being around military men--she said: "They are the real men." Jack made it a point not to mention his relationship with Tony Stryker; for fear that she might find an attraction to him.
That night, Tony hadn’t returned to the room and so Jack--noticing his locker was unlocked--went over to investigate. What he found in the locker, along with some other paraphernalia, was a partially filled box of playing cards. What was strange, was that all the cards were the same--(the ace of spades). There was also a black folder with notes on secret training missions in South America. That explained what Tony meant by having to “fly out on a moment’s notice.” There was some commotion going on down the hall so Jack abruptly went back to his bunk. At that moment, with the lights out, Tony entered the room and stood there staring at Jack. The door was ajar so it let in enough light to see each other. Jack noticed that there were blood splatters on Tony's black combat boots. Tony caught Jack's stare and said: “Is there something wrong?” Jack asked: “What happened?” Tony sat on Jack's bunk and asked: “Marine… I’m going to tell you something confidential and gross. Can you handle it?” Jack responded: “I don’t know. It depends.” Tony hesitated for a moment, lighting a cigarette, and then began to explain the late nights and the blood. He said that he goes out into the village with knowledge of where some of the hard-core drug dealers from Mexico live. Like a commando in the dark, he enters their house and while they’re asleep, he gets them up and ties them to a chair. He then gets some of the cocaine they stash and fills their mouths with it. When they are choking, he uses his K-bar to cut their throats. He went on to explain: “These bastards are the scum of the earth and they are the ones giving this shit to our kids and they deserve death!”
Jack understood his meaning, but said: “Shouldn’t you leave that up to the police?” Tony said: “I told you I had a “bad habit”…didn’t I? If I’m not in combat anymore, I have to have the adrenaline rush... I’m addicted to it! I’m going to sleep now…ok?” He went over to his bunk and laid down, covering himself with his field poncho. Jack slept with eyes half-mast this night.
The next morning, Tony was gone. All day Jack was haunted by what he heard that night. He wasn’t sure how to handle what he was told. On the one hand he gave his word of silence and on the other; he felt that he had an obligation to put an end to the madness. At the next AA meeting, he met a former LA police officer and decided to confide in him. It also turned out that the officer was an aspiring screenwriter. What the officer suggested was that Jack try to get Tony Stryker to turn himself in and plead “insanity.”
Later that evening, while reading the LA Times, Jack came across a headline that read: “MYSTERIOUS ‘ACE CARD’ MURDERER CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTIM IN SANTA MONICA.” Now Jack knew the meaning as to why the deck of cards was all (aces). He also found out that there was a special elite group of soldiers in Vietnam that left their calling card after a Vietcong kill. And that card was an “ace of spades.” Tony Stryker was a member of that elite group. They were feared for their ferocity by the Vietcong.
Jack was notified that he was about to be release soon, but that he would have to continue taking the drugs prescribed or not be able to return if he relapsed. On this night, Jack stayed in his room trying to determine his next move. At the same time he feared for his own life if somehow Tony found out about the meeting with the aspiring screen writer/officer. He fell asleep after reading his usual Bible scriptures.
During the night, he was startled by a dark figure, quietly walking in and going over to the other bunk. With eyes half-massed, he noticed it was Tony. He laid quietly down and covered himself with his field poncho. Jack sensed danger. It was something he was familiar with from his missions in Vietnam. While lying motionless, he noticed that Tony was getting up and stealthily walking over towards his bunk. Because of the light that came from under the door; Jack was able to notice what looked like a bayonet in his right hand.
Just as he was about to take evasive action, (mother) nurse came busting into the room, with two hulking attendants trailing behind, she yelled: “Tony Stryker! Give me that knife! This is your mother talking…give me that knife! We know you came in with a knife and you know the rules! Give it!”
Tony turned around and said: “It’s my knife and I want it back! Mama said: “You’ll get it back when you leave. I’ll keep it in the safe.” He handed the k-bar knife over and she asked him if he needed drugs. He said yes and they escorted him out of the room. Jack laid there after observing all this and thanked God for saving his life. He knew that there was a good chance that Tony could have overcome him and slit his throat. He suspected that his conversation with the writer/officer somehow reached Tony's ears.
The next morning, Jack prepared to be released. He didn’t have much to pack and he made sure to take the Bible that was left there. As he was packing, the nurse (mother) came in and said: “Tony Stryker will not be coming back here... anymore. He broke too many rules. He’s history!” Jack wasn’t sure if there was a double meaning to what she was saying--knowing the dark history of the Veteran’s hospitals in their violent treatment of some the more disturbed patients--especially with those horrific shock treatments! Treatments that Jack had fortunately managed to escape on more than one occasion.
As he exited the lock-ward, the attendants waved goodbye as (mother) stood there staunchly, with her fists resting on her broad hips. After a quick look back; Jack went his way along the path that led to the bus stop on Wiltshire boulevard. Rachael had heard of his release, and she ran to catch up with him. Struggling to compose herself, she asked: “Jack! Wheeeere are you going?” Jack answered bluntly: “I don’t know….” Rachael said: “I’m out'a here too! Can I... go with you?” Jack took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes and said: “I’d like that….”
powerful narrative re a difficult time for our country, and in particular the soldiers, citizens, parents and all who had a loved one in Nam and during the years following
I've pondered why there aren't many comments. Speaking for myself, I don't know what to say either other than to acknowledge my deep respect for those soldiers who can find their way back home, even if it's an alternate path.
This would have me at 14 about to turn 15. I wanted to publish someone who had faced war for years and I was wondering if you'd be willing to flesh this out to 3000 words for an anthology I am doing on CreateSpace.com you retain your original rights but this; being I was about to turn 15 years old when this was done. My uncle was a 'Nam vet
A page-turning novel about a relationship between best friends that is interrupted because of betrayal , deceit, sexual promiscuity and pregnancy happens!
Spoken Word
This CD will touch the deepest inner part of your humanness and spirit, you will never be the same after listening to the depths of struggle, the reality of life, the touching voice of truth. It will shock you, move you to tears. It w
© Copyright 1991 by: John Gasparro Jr.
