Blood Brothers

A The sounds of fighting faded into the background. The steady "whump"
of mortars dropping could still be heard, but they were farther away
than before. It seemed to be safe to move now, so Slim crawled back
onto the trail. His leg was bent in a strange manner, and he knew it
was a million dollar wound. But if he was to reap the benefits of such
a wound, he had to survive. He pulled himself into sitting position
against a rock and lit a smoke. He should be safe here until the patrol
returned. The patrol had started the night before, but had been pinned
down all night by mortar fire. Then, at daylight, after the barrage had
ceased and they started back, they walked right into an ambush. Putting
their training to good use, they surprised the Gooks by attacking,
rather than hiding or running. The enemy had moved into position at
night, and to keep the noise down, they didn't dig in, so when the
attack came, they boogied. All but two of the patrol followed for a
short while, then stopped and hunkered down when Joe Chink started
dropping mortars again. The two men who didn't go were Slim and a young
black guy, who hadn't moved. Slim thought he was dead, but he wasn't,
he was just hit real bad. Then Slim saw the enemy soldier, as he
crawled out from behind a large boulder. He, too, had been wounded, and
he surveyed the area with a crazed look, blood streaming from a head
wound. He carried a burp gun, and swung it menacingly in Slim's
direction. Before he could squeeze the trigger, a shot rang out, and
half his head disappeared. Slim turned to see the source of his
redemption, in time to see the black guy's head fall and the .45 pistol
drop from his hand. "Good luck, man." were the only words Slim ever
heard him utter. Shortly, the patrol returned, placed Slim and his
savior on makeshift litters, and started back for base camp. At the aid
station, fractured femur immobilized and under sedation, Slim asked if
anyone knew the other soldier. "No idea, buddy. Just another coon, I
guess." The cigarette smoking GI who had answered slung his M-1 and
wandered away. ****** Lucien heard the approaching footsteps, and tried
to make himself even smaller under the pile of hay. My God, what had he
let himself in for? Ruby had been more than willing, there was no way
they could call it rape. Yet, here he was, hiding from a group of white
men, one of them Ruby's brother, who were bent on stringing him up.
They had chased him all the way from the Bottoms, nearly catching him
several times. Only his superior knowledge of the area kept him free,
and he was able to stay one jump ahead of them all night. The sounds of
the search got louder, then quieted down, and soon, all was silent.
Lucien waited for what seemed like hours, then stealthily crept out
from the hay loft. "Here the son-of-a-bitch is! I told ya he'd show
himself if we were quiet long enough!" Lucien found himself surrounded
by the posse and staring at several guns. The speaker continued, "Let's
string him up and get it over with." Lucien slumped to the ground,
weeping and proclaiming his innocence. A tall, slender man stepped away
from the group, and said, "We really ought to just turn him over to the
sheriff, we could get in a world of hurt just offing him, no matter
what he's done." "Screw you, Slim, this bastard had his way with a
white girl. You know we can't put up with that shit, no matter what she
said about the two of them being in love. That don't cut any ice here
in Dixie. And with Ruby sticking up for him, he'll never even go to
jail. What kind of shit is that?" Two men approached Lucien, uncoiling
the rope with which the mob intended to lynch him. "OK, back off!" Slim
stepped back another step and chambered a round into his shotgun.
"Don't do this!" "We're gonna do it all right! If you don't get the
fuck out of our way, you'll join him in hell!" Spittle flew from the
mouth of the speaker, and his own shotgun came to bear on Slim. Several
other weapons also were trained on him, but he held his ground, keeping
his weapon glued on the leader. Softly he spoke to Lucien, "Get up and
walk away, I'll blast the first one who points his gun at you." His
eyes moved back and forth over the faces of the lynching party. Lucien
came to his feet slowly, and looked questioningly at Slim, obviously
afraid to move further. "Get out of here," Slim continued. "I'll cover
you." As Lucien took a tentative step away, the mob started mumbling,
knowing they were about to be deprived of their victim. One of their
weapons shifted slowly in Lucien's direction. Slim swung his shotgun
toward the offender and yelled, "Run, you stupid man!" The blast of
Slim's shotgun put wings on Lucien's feet, and he ran with the sound of
multiple gunshots ringing in his ear. He made it to a friend's house,
and was installed in a cubbyhole built for just this purpose. As the
well disguised door closed him in, he asked his benefactor, "Who was
that white dude they just blew away?" "Couldn't say, Bro. Just another
honky, I guess." The door closed firmly. ***** The first half of this
story is true, and belongs in my remembrances. The second half was
written later to try and depict my feelings regarding the racial
tensions that exist in an otherwise great country. My life was saved by
a black man named George Tisdale. You'll meet him later in the book.
You're gonna love him as much as I do.