PART VI

Ways of Death and Dying

LAST RESPECTS

Old man

You have the biggest stone

In the city cemetery

This is what you have to show

For all your greed

And selfish need for money

Your wife now goes shopping every day

And eats in fancy restaurants every meal

Your children all finished

The finest finishing schools

The girls are married to well-groomed businessmen

The boys are still pursuing their respective professions

A psychiatrist, an architect and a plastic surgeon

The funeral was a big affair

The limousine was decked with roses

And the line of cars

Stretched for at least a mile

Cadillacs, Mercedes, BMW's

Even a Jaguar and a Rolls

The communty's finest citizens

All paid their last respects

And the flowers heaped upon your grave

Made the entire cemetery smell fresh and sweet

The big oil painting of your portrait

Hangs upon the wall at the back of the bank

All your grandchildren are in good colleges now

Except the one who never cooperated

And they are all members

Of the best fraternities and sororities

The girls will all be princesses

At their respective coming out ceremonies

Living has been an investment for your family

You were the landlord of seventeen apartment complexes

Aside from all your other business investments

And your tax shelters

Funds set aside to help the gifted

The memorial service was long and boring

No one could hear what the preacher was saying

But the wake was a really big bash

NATURAL DEATH

No one really regrets

The natural passing of someone

Who has lived a full life

To a ripe old age

Natural death is neither friend nor enemy

It is but an end of living

A neutral arbiter of life's process

It does not preplan our fate

We cannot predict its timing

Or prepare for its coming

It may be the inevitable result

Of a natural calamity

Or of disease or illness

It comes of its own choosing

Certain and exacting

It goes along its own way

Silent and unrelenting

The last gateway

On the journey of life

We cannot turn back

It is without equity

Or a sense of poetic justice

For some the path is too short

For other's it seems too long

Without rhyme or reason

It happens to all

Slowly or all of a sudden

Its rhythms are absolute disorder

Making no sense to living things

Dying is the only price we must pay

For living

DARKNESS

Journeying

Into Darkness

Illuminated by only

A small little light

Flickering in the wind

Traveling to different destinations

With only a feint glowing light

To guide us along our way

Darkness surrounds us

In a shroud of shadow

Obscuring all things

We forever pass by

Without landmarks to point the way

Lacking perspective to judge the distance

Only small fingers of flame

Pointing in changing directions

Darkness

Envelops our being

With a sense of immensity

Felt in tangible absence

And emptiness of negative space

Nothing solid to touch

But cold ground beneath our feet

Calling us to lie down

And go to sleep

Darkness

Without Moon or stars

With only hints of far-off lights

Flickering upon the horizon

Shadowy forms stalk alongside

Suggestions of other travelers

Well cloaked and silent

Upon a cold night

Skirting the edge of the candle's light

Teasing our eyes with an eerie glow

Darkness

Retreating echoes

Answering our worried requests

Greeting in fleeing silence

The loudness of our thoughts

Drowning in utter stillness

The diminishing sounds of our calls

And the halting shuffle

Of our footsteps

Darkness

Looming upon the edge

Of our small world of light

Lurking somewhere just beyond

The horizon of our experience

Haunting our existence

Tracing every footstep

In shadows

Always awaiting

Just behind the next tree

Over the next rise

Around the next corner

Darkness

Forever receding from our reach

Always vanishing from our vision

Slipping through our fingers

Stealing away with the twilight

Always on the verge of dawning

Without feeling

Without knowing

Without being

DEAR DAD

Dear Dad

This is a letter

That's taken me twenty-five years to write

I used to think of you at night

And imagine you standing in the shadows

Trying to remember what you looked like

Now the only thing I miss

Is not having gotten to know one another

A little better as adults

I wish you could now see your little granddaughter

She would have made you very happy

And maybe even taken away

Some of your pain and sorrow

I wish my little daughter could have known you

We are such a small family now

She has only one grandmother left

We live in a small apartment

While I struggle to finish my degree

Prices have gone way up since you were around

The whole world has changed so much

Sometimes I think your death was so unnecessary

But I do not think about it much anymore

I've finally put it all behind me

It's difficult even to imagine any more

What you looked like

Or the tone of your voice

No one has been to visit your grave

For a very long time

It's on a hillside overlooking a beautiful blue bay

Not a bad way to spend a day

Or to rest an eternity

I sometimes think what it might have been like

If you had still been around

To give me some sound advice

Or to help me learn to fix my car

But then I think about it

And if you had survived

Perhaps we all would have led a very different life

And I would not even be myself

But somebody very different

I think about that

And am glad now to be who I am

And I'm proud of things I've done

I don't think I would want to trade places

With some stranger who looks like me

It took me a long time

To learn to like myself again

And now that I do, I would not have it any other way

Sometimes I wonder too

If you would also have been proud of me

Even though I haven't become myself

For the sake of your memory

I am sad that you left us so alone

When we were all so young and helpless

And I am sad that I will never get to see you again

Or to talk with you

That's all I ever really wanted

But now I am happy about who I am

And would not have it any differently

If you had been around

Then maybe I wouldn't have made all my mistakes

But I've had to learn a lot the hard way

And will never forget what you've done for me

Anyway

Your son

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

My little dark boys

Vietnamese boat babies

I bring you home

On Halloween night

We carve a jack-o-lantern

And put it in the window

For candlelight

I find some old sheets

And some camouflage paint

You picked out at the market

I get web gear

Canteens, pouches and bush hats

And old torn camouflaged utilities

And I dress you up

As little Viet Cong ghosts

We paint green upon your brown faces

And you wear white sheets

In place of black pajamas

We go around the block

In the shadows of the street lights

And to every house we come

You all yell "Trick or Treat"

In your funny English

And the neighbors all look surprised

And the Vietnam Vet

Gets a strange look in his eye

And wears a wry smile

As he pokes you in the ribs

You really enjoyed your first Halloween

And filled up with loads of candy

It was fun to go running with all the other children

Dressed in different costumes

Like prankish little ghosts and goblins

Playing in the dark shadows of the streets

ALIGATOR LIZARD

My uncle

A naturalist by profession

And by self-chosen avocation

Curator of his own museum

Specializing in reptiles and amphibians

He once drove all the way

From the Southeast to LA

Looking for a Southwestern Alligator Lizard

We were amazed

For the children

Such lizards were common things

Only a little rarer

Than the blue-bellied swifts

Whose tails detached so easily

As an adult

I had a resident Alligator lizard in our home

Alongside of opossums, raccoons, owls, hawks and blue jays

I had seen it only a few times

In more than ten years

One time sunning itself

Upon a brick under the fine mist of a sprinkler

Another time slipping under the front planter

Crawling away under the hibiscus

Once upon the side of the house

In my little vegetable garden

And sometimes I found its skin

Shed snake-like in the hedge

One day I ran it over

With a wheel barrow full of dirt

I must have accidentally caught it

Off guard

Its back was broken, and blood dripped from its mouth

I found it laying motionless in the grass

It's eyes glazed over and its tail barely squirming

I found a hammer and crushed its skull

And buried it beneath the Oleander

Feeling bad and saying goodbye

T a long time co-resident

Of a suburban community

TIGERS AND DRAGONS

I take you by the hands

And lead you through the park

Around the long lake and under the willow trees

I point out to the middle of the lake

Where the water looks dark and deep

And I tell you a tale

About a long old dragon

Who dwells at the bottom

And moves through the sewers

And waits silently by the water's edge

For little children who wander so close

He has the wings of an eagle

And the head of a stallion

He has the talons of a hawk

And the tail of a snake

He breathes fire

And spits flame

When he glides beneath the water

The ripples come to the surface

Your eyes open widely

And you all exclaim in earnest

"Really"

And I can't get you by the side of the lake

We walk beneath the willows

As I weave a story about tigers

Hiding high up in the branches of the tree

So high in fact

As to be quite invisible

Especially by small children from below

And they do not like little children

Who come running and screaming beneath their leaves

Without first taking off their shoes

And folding their arms in a show of respect

Then every time our head s brush beneath hanging leaves

You become scared and want to leave

So we walk slowly through the park

Staying away from the water's dangerous edge

And steering a wide berth

Around all the willow trees

As I tell you more stories

About bears who live in caves between the rocks

HOLDING ON and LETTING GO

It is sometimes trying

To know when to continue holding on

And when to begin letting go

It is sometimes difficult

To know the difference

Between something grown old and outworn

And something old that remains too dear

We fill up our lives with little things

That no longer has much sense or purpose

Things that no longer seem so important

As when they were new

Other precious things

We sometimes lose

Or have stolen from us

And we suffer a crisis of separation

A loss that fills our lives with emptiness

That we can somehow never replace

Like a mother

Who tragically loses her child

Sometimes it's more important to know

When to let go of important things

Than things that are mundane and trivial

And sometimes it's more important

To hold on to dumb little things

Than to things that seem so important

Sometimes the little knit knacks of our life

Become the vessels of our past

The symbolic urns for our burnt ashes

Our only surviving connections to lost pasts

Sometimes the precious symbols

A wedding ring, a gift of gold, a clump of hair

Become the sources of haunting dreams

And recurring nightmares

We all have a secret hope chest

Hidden away

Somewhere

Sometimes it is a treasure chest

Other times a Pandora's box

This tattered old letter

This brown photograph

That old sweater

This old pair of shoes

That old book of stamps

These odd arrow heads

Those old hats

All wrapped in old yellow newspapers

LISTENING to MY SERGEANT DIE on the RADIO

I volunteered to go that morning

I always enjoyed the excitement and adventure

That comes with the atmosphere of being in a foreign country

And it would be boring in the rain

With nothing to do at the firing range

It would be fun driving the tanks

Along the muddy narrow roads through the hills

In the cool, rain-soaked Habu

Especially during a break from the perpetual humidity

That made being in rubber gear inside a tank so unbearable

By my sergeant who had just been helping us bore-sight and zero the tank

Decided to go instead

"RHIP" (Rank Has Its Privileges)

He was fond of reminding us

So they drove off down the muddy road

In a green jeep

Splattering red mud behind them

Most of the staff and sargents all gone, and the lieutenant nowhere to be found

The rest of us enlisted men

Just sitting around on ammo crates

Keeping a small fire going in the rain

Dressed in our green rubber Willy-Peter gear

Trading off the warm body sweat for the chilling rain water

We joked at one another and told stories

An unopened c-rat can someone carelessly threw into the fire

Suddenly exploded

Catching a black corporal in the eye

"Shit, who in the hell..." he shouted in reply

He wiped out the spot with his finger and licked it,

Then smiling, said

"Peanut butter"

Then we swapped stories about c-rat cans thrown in the fire

Waiting for someone to come in over our little field radio

A situation report from the tank being retrieved

Finally the radio crackled and buzzed in the rain

"3-1 Alpha, this is 3-3 Alpha, this is 3-3 Alpha, over..."

It was the slow voice of the staff

"You get it....No, you get it.....Man, I'm no good on the radio..."

Someone next to it jumps to the radio

"3-3 Alpha, this is 3 Alpha, we read you loud and clear, over"

"3 Alpha, this is 3-3 Alpha, sit-rep is we are on the road with the Alpha Tango and are headed your way, over...."

"3-3 Alpha, this is 3 Alpha, roger, out"

We sit in silence for a few more minutes and wonder which route they may be taking back.

No one knew the central training area very well, and the bridge to the northern training area was supposed to be impassable by tanks. We figured it was about an hour driving time by tank.

A few minutes later the radio popped again.

"3-Alpha, this is 3-3 Alpha, over."

"3-3 Alpha, this is 3-Alpha, over"

"3-Alpha, sit rep is we're lost. We must have taken a wrong turn back down the road, over."

"This is 3 Alpha, do you need any assistance, over"

"Negative, 3 Alpha, we'll turn around and backtrack to where we took the wrong turn over."

"This is 3 Alpha, keep us posted, over."

Suddenly there is static on the radio, and we hear funny sounds and someone is shouting in the background.

"This is 3 Alpha, come in 3-3, over"

"This is 3 Alpha, come in 3-3, over"

"Come in 3-3, over"

More static until we finally get Sgt. Rob's whiskey voice

"Break, break, do you read me over"

"This is 3 Alpha, we read you loud and clear, over"

"We've had an accident, we've slipped into the Habu and we are trapped in side the tank. The tank is upside down and the hatches are all blocked..."

"Rob, can you get out?"

"I don't know, I'm stuck...I think I can kick the escape hatch out with my feet..."

"This is 3 Alpha, is everyone O.K., over"

"Staff, is that you? The staff's all right... Where's Sgt. L? I don't know where Sgt. L. is, he must have jumped out...."

"3-1, this is 3 Alpha, tell us your grid coordinates, over"

"Staff, where the hell are we....we're on a small road just above Kushi Crossing, over."

No one knows what to do.

Someone runs to the tanks to try to pick up company H.Q. on their frequency.

Some of us want to jump into the tanks and get down the road to Kushi Crossing.

Someone says that we can't do it without the Lieutenant's orders.

"F...k the boot Lewy and his orders" Someone else retorts

"We can't just go down the highway without a permit or an escort."

"We're only supposed to take the tanks on the road after midnight."

"Who will decon the road"

"F...k. the Gooners' laws and restrictions. F...k the roads, F...k the kamakazi drivers, F....k the Gooners, F...k the decon, F....k the suck!"

"Get a map, maybe we can take the back roads"

Someone runs to the Lieutenant's tank to fetch the map

Suddenly the radio pops back on

"3 Alpha, this is 3-3 over"

"This is 3 Alpha, over"

"3 Alpha," Staff said slowly but nervously

"Echo-Fiver Delta Lima has been trapped beneath the tank, over

Do you copy, Echo-Fiver Delta Lima has been trapped under the tank, over."

"Oh shit," someone says

"Break, break, this is 3-3 Alpha, we need help, over.

This is an emergency, we need help, over."

"Is he OK, over"

"I don't know, I can only see his legs, over"

"I can't get to him in the bush, over."

"Shit" some one says again

"This is 3-3 Alpha, I repeat, we need assistance ASAP, over"

"Do you want us to bring the tanks, over"

We need something to pull the tank off Sgt. L, over"

"Where's the god-damned Lieutenant, over"

Someone comes back from the tanks saying he raised Battalion HQ, and relayed the message."

We wait a couple of minutes, no one really knowing what to do next.

"This is 3-3, over, can you hurry, over"

Finally, the resident sergeant says "F...k it, fire up the tanks"

We scramble onto our tanks without another word, and warm them up.

We raise the staff on our radio and tell him we're coming.

Just then the lieutenant drives up in the company jeep driven by the company clerk

He motions for us to shut down the tanks.

Pissed off, we get down and ask him what's happening.

He says they are getting an Am Track retriever up back at the battalion,

To be escorted by the Battalion jeep and a medical ambulance.

Our sergeant asks, "How long will that take, sir?"

Lieutenant replies "Now look, you just can't cruise down the main highway anytime you like without any clearance."

Lieutenant takes the radio and calls the down tank

"3-3, this is Alpha Lima, what's your sit-rep, over"

"Well, we're trying to get to him, but he's squashed down in the mud pretty deep"

The lieutenant grabs the sergeant, "you're in charge here, stay put, and make a road block and don't let anyone come into the area without authorization."

He jumps into the jeep and takes off down the rainy, muddy road

We sit back down around the fire, while the sergeant asks for a volunteer road watch

Kicking a can into the fire, someone stands up, saying

"F....k it, I'll do it, and walks over to where the road leads to the opening of the clearing"

A little while later a small white car drives up the road.

It's Sgt. L's wife with their newborn child, bringing his lunch.

"Oh shit, someone says again

The road watch stops her

Sergeant goes over and does the talking, telling her that something's happened and that she should go back right away to company H.Q.

She has a strange, worried look on her face, asking, "Is my husband all right, what's happened"

Sarge says "I can't tell you more, we really don't know, but there's been an accident. Just go back to the company H.Q."

"Is my husband here" she insists, looking worse.

Cpl. G., can you driver her back to H.Q."

"Sure" says Corporal G. in his deep southern drawl

He is the best friend of Sgt. L and his wife

The car turns around and goes back down the road

"Man, that's strange, how did she know to come just now."

"She never brings him his lunch like that"

Some says "shit" again

We go slowly back to the fire and silently listen for the radio,

Feeling pretty down about everything

The radio remains silent.

Sergeant says, "Man, it's been fifteen minutes. Where's the damned retriever, we could have been there by now."

Someone else says, "Yeah, this sure sucks, f k the suck!"

Someone else chimes in "Yeah, man, more hurry up and wait bullshit....F...k the gooners and their regulations."

A few minutes later we get the news on battalion frequency. "Sit Rep, one tango 3 Alpha is overturned, one Echo Fiver Delta Lima is killed, two others taken to Battalion Aid, over"

It turned out afterward that the first Am Trak retriever couldn't pull the tank along, so they had to send for another. Later that day we continued our firing exercise alongside the 106-recoiless rifle. We bring the tanks in that night and decon the roads. While washing the mud off the road, I jackknifed the jeep and trailer in the middle of the narrow highway, trying to turn it around. It was about 3 A.M. and suddenly a speeding taxi comes up over the hill doing at least 60 m.p.h. Staff and I are just sitting there in the middle of the road, expressionless. The taxi swerves suddenly up onto a high curb, takes out about twenty feet of shrubbery, and somehow manages to get back on the road without even slowing down or looking back. The next day we clean the mud off the tanks and go to the armory to clean all our weapons. At the armory the staff grabs my shoulder and pulls me aside, saying "Christ, I though we were goners last night." I said simply "me too" and we both laughed in relief. Two days later we went down to see the tank still sitting in the Habu. It looked broken and empty, almost weak. The road proved to be too narrow. The edge gave way and the tank flipped over and down twenty or thirty feet into the habu. I remember Sgt. L. always telling me that he would jump out of the tank if he ever felt it slipping in the habu. "I'm not going to ride the tank into that stuff" he would say. He tried jumping out but the tank turned too fast and caught him, squashing him deeply into the mud.

They say he probably suffocated or drowned. A week later we had a memorial service at the base chapel. The wife took it all well, everyone kept saying. They were flown back to the states. Sgt. Rob and Staff looked pretty bad for several weeks after. They lost their usual humor and didn't talk to anyone.

Echo Fiver Delta Lima, meritoriously, RIP

HEART of DARKNESS

All water seeks the lowest point

All streams flow down

To the bottom of a common sea

In each person's heart

A shadow dwells

In lonely emptiness

It seeks liberation

But doesn't know how to find it

It looks in dark places

And it does dark things

But never does it find release

Because it always follows behind us

Rarely do we see it in our shadows

But it always remains there

Hiding behind us

We cannot know

The shadows of our own heart

Until we open it up

And look inside it

Finding there the common clay

The human capacity

For good and for evil

Dwelling together

We must bring it all out into the light of the day

And face the fears and horrors we find there

Learning to live with the possibility

Of our own imperfection

And there we find

Deep down inside

The root of our deepest being

Firmly resting on common ground

Finding it in ourselves

We then find it in others as well

And there is the possibility

For our salvation

Lurking somewhere within

The water of the world

Flowing through our veins

1994-5

Blanket Copyright, Hugh M. Lewis, © 2005. Use of this text governed by fair use policy--permission to make copies of this text is granted for purposes of research and non-profit instruction only.

Last Updated: 03/15/05