Dispatches

A young Marine is finishing up his tour in Khe Sanh. Khe Sanh has surpassed Con Thien as the most embattled part of the region. Herr thinks the tall blonde Marine from Michigan is about twenty, but it is hard to guess the ages of the Marines that served in Khe Sanh “since nothing like youth ever lasted in their faces for very long” (87).

On the last morning of his tour, the young man packs his bags, jokes around with the men he is leaving behind, and gives the few joints he has to his best friend.

The Khe Sanh airstrip is worse than most. There’s a trench nearby, and when the helicopter lands, those in the trench make a mad dash for the helicopter, trying to avoid getting picked off by enemy gunfire, as those in the aircraft jump off and run for the relative safety of the trenches.

When it is time for the Marine to leave the trenches and run for the helicopter, it is the absence of gunfire that keeps him glued to the spot. When he returns to the bunker, the other men laugh it off, but after he fails again to get on a helicopter, the company gunnery sergeant starts to worry about him.