Chapter 45 #3
“Well, Bobbo was with me that day when it happened. He was one of the guys who warned me about the little boy running toward me. I think he felt some responsibility for what happened. So, we both carried that guilt together.” Tony paused.
“But here’s what I noticed about Bobbo. Whenever we were fighting the VC, we were all beasts.
All of us. Even him. We had to be. But even when we weren’t fighting, most of us still acted like beasts.
The way we talked, the way we bragged and played tough and lied and thought about people; it was horrible.
I know it was a way to cope, but still, the war brought out the worst in all of us.
“But not Bobbo. He was hell on wheels when the battles were going on, but when they were over, he was quiet and calm. And it wasn’t weed or whiskey. That’s just the way he was. He was different from the rest of us.
“He was planning to finish college after the war and study to be a high school coach and history teacher, maybe a principal. He could have been anything, a doctor, a lawyer, anything, but that’s what he wanted to do.
“We were there in 1968, when Tet happened. We were in Khe Sanh.”
Theo glanced at Tony for signs of where this story might be taking him. He saw no cause for concern. There were no dragons in the glass.
“One night, we were out in the field after a long, horrible day. We’d engaged the enemy that afternoon and lost a lot of guys.
“Me and Bobbo were in a foxhole. Hot as hell but at least it was dry.
There was lots of noise around us even though the fighting wasn’t too close. But it was hard to sleep.
“So, Bobbo’s real religious. We talked some about it but not much.
He knew I wasn’t interested in that stuff.
But he always had this little New Testament with him, a real little one in his back pocket, and the Psalms were in it.
After a few weeks in the jungle, it was a mess.
It had dirt and mud and grease all over it.
It looked like it’d been through the valley of the shadow of death, just like the rest of us.
“Anyway, when we were in the hole that night, things sort of calmed down, and Bobbo pulled out his New Testament and started reading. I asked him what he was reading, and we started talking about it. He told me what he believed. And Theo, you’ll love this.
He said he believed in heaven, the real place, and in Jesus dying on the cross and rising from the dead.
And like an idiot, I did my disrespectful smartass routine and told him all that stuff sounded crazy to me.
“And then you know what he said? Get this. He agreed with me. He said it sounded crazy to him too, but he still believed it. He didn’t get mad at me.
“But this is the part I really wanted to tell you. He opened his mess kit and had this little bottle — it was made out of blue glass, like a pill bottle or something. He’d filled it with wine back at base before we went out to the jungle.
And he had a little piece of white bread too.
And he was going to take Communion out of it, right there in the hole.
All by himself. I didn’t even know that was permitted, to take Communion all by yourself in a foxhole.
I thought you had to be in a church with a preacher or somebody like that.
“But there’s Bobbo in a damn foxhole, in the middle of a war, getting ready to do the Lord’s Supper. And then, get this, Theo.”
Tony swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.
“Get this. Bobbo asked me if I wanted to join him. And he told me a little bit about it, about forgiveness and faith and all that, and I said yes. So, I had my first Communion, and my last, right there. I didn’t really know what I was doing, and I hoped it didn’t get him in trouble with God, but I’ll never forget it.
‘The blood of Christ, shed for you.’ That’s what he said. ”
A moment of silence descended. Tony took a deep breath.
“A week later, we were on a patrol and Bobbo was about ten yards in front of me. We got ambushed, and all hell broke loose. He got hit real bad. Real bad. But he was still conscious. I stayed right beside him in the middle of the fighting till the medic got there.
“He couldn’t talk — he was in shock ‘cause he was losing so much blood — but he kept looking right at me, right into my eyes. And when we put him on the stretcher to be airlifted out, he reached up to me. His hand was shaking real bad, but he reached up and gave me his little book.
“That was the last time I ever saw him. He died the next day. I guess y’all would say he went to heaven. I hope so. God, I want to believe that. It just felt like the end of Bobbo to me.”
A long silence followed. Then Theo finally spoke. “In one sense, yes, it was an end. A terrible end. But maybe not the end. Maybe an end with a future.”
Tony mulled over the curious phrase, “end with a future.” After a few seconds, he straightened up in his chair and held his small goblet of port shoulder high. “So, Theo, this glass of vintage is probably the finest wine I’ll ever drink. But that little pill bottle was pretty special too.”
Theo raised his glass. “To Bobbo and his book.”
Tony lifted his arm and nodded. “To Bobbo… and his book.”