The Door Gunner

From quiet mountains,
he fell into chaos,
unleashed on the other side of sanity.

From his village,
he fell into Hell.

He fell into Vietnam.

His first in-country sundown,
unnatural red.

Then mortars, 
heavy weapon fire,
close-in from the ridge.

Flashing thunder
walked the base.
 Not heard, but felt,
it tore the earth, 
took away all air.

"Come with me!" a voice yelled,
but weaponless,
he froze, 
hid within his soul,
and grasped at narrow hope.

He prayed, Only dawn...

Under light of day,
he mended birds of war,
fixed rotors, driveshafts,
 had hunted only elk.

But death,
not yet fully sated,
brought him to the gunner's door.
One-hundred twenty-two confirmed
and likely thirty more.

So they called him Billy The Kid.

At 19,
he became The Kid.
 
Sometimes he saw faces.
Against his will, he saw faces,
without the blessing of distance.

Lost in a fearsome night, 
Hipshot screamed awake.
He had dreamed of empty boots.

Mess tent at sunup, 
smell of burning grease,
but coffee strong and hot.
Then Hipshot told his dream.

"And those boots were empty, man."
His hand shook with the cup.
"I gotta bad feeling about this day,
like somethin' gonna happen, you know."

Hand on shoulder,
The Kid spoke low,
"Aw, it don't mean nothin', Hip.
It's all gonna be ok, see, 
and we'll play a hand tonight."

Another cup and toast.
A smile of grimness on his face,
Hipshot told their usual joke.
"Well, they promised us a flag, at least."
And then he stood to go.

On the line,
he checked his 60 mil,
harnessed in,
 and mounted up.

The turbines' whine became a howl,
as rotors gleamed beneath the sun.
Huey rose above the trees,
then swung around,
 and vanished east.

Late-morning,
Huey touched down hard,
 windshield stitched with holes.
Under blades still whirling,
The Kid came to the door.

Body soaked in crimson,
Hipshot lay among syrettes.
No jaw to speak, 
no tongue to tell.

Hand still warm.

Still warm,Goddamn it!

The medics brought the bag.
The Kid requested time,
his hand closed the eyes,
his hand zipped up the bag.

He'd told his friend a lie.

* * *

Now silence heals among the pines,
while 40 years have drifted by,
and hands tie caddis flies and nymphs,
as Locksa glides beneath the sky.

Yet sometimes eyes that will not shut
stare through the shroud of night,
and comfort lies beyond the stars, 
'till dawn restores the light.

Author's Note: A door gunner fired from the open door on the side of a helicopter, usually with a 60 millimeter machine gun. It was a vulnerable and dangerous position.  Huey was the nickname of the Bell HU-1 helicopter that was used extensively in Vietnam. The bag was a body bag, a heavy zippered bag used to hold dead bodies. Syrettes (hypodermic needles attached to toothpaste-like tubes) were used to inject morphine to relieve pain. Caddis flies and nymphs are used for fly fishing. The Locksa River is in Idaho.