Jungle Cry

Short creative historical fiction

This narrative takes place in the late 1960’s when a young African American male was drafted into the Vietnam War. His name was Mercury L. Taylor from South Philadelphia. Born into a household of four; consisting of his grandmother, mother, sister aged 10, and baby brother of age 2. He often frequented his local boxing club to get a few jabs in, but to him it was merely a hobby that would ultimately make him tough enough to defend himself in a time when rioting and gang violence was at an all time high.

Nonetheless, his love and passion lied in the use of a pen and pad that he would carry around with him at all times. He drew and sketched in that pad every day, in hopes of becoming a famous architect, building landmarks throughout the country. Due to the military drafting law at the time, as an eldest male he would automatically be faced with having to make that traumatic change right after graduating from high school. However, if he was the only male sibling to have been born, his life may have taken an entirely different direction. 

Basic training was a couple days away and soon he would be traveling to Fort Bragg, North Carolina where he would be faced with a rigorous experience that would last him a lifetime. This was the new chapter in his life in which he would truly become a man.

Upon arriving to the boot camp training facility he was initially greeted by loud mouth Drill Sergeant Gregory Hodges.

“YEAH TRAINEE, THIS IS NOT HOME! 

I’M NOT YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER, OR BROTHER!

I AM DRILL SERGEANT AGONY, DESTRUCTION, AND MISERY!

I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!”

Mercury stared at him in tremor as he felt like he was drowning in a pool of sorrow; a tear hit his cheek and a huge lump formed in his throat as his heart skipped several beats. He was so afraid to speak that all he did was stand there and listen, ever knowing that the reality of him no longer being in South Philly had just kicked in.

“PICK UP YOUR GEAR TRAINEE, NEXT STOP IS THE BARBER SHOP WHERE YOU WILL BE GIVEN A REAL MAN’S CUT!

MARCH! MARCH! 

YOU’RE LEFT… RIGHT! YOU’RE LEFT… RIGHT!”

Drill sergeant Hodges marches the troops on with a military cadence rumbling from his lungs. Mercury continued marching trying to keep up with the drill, and in the corner of his eye he noticed a young male struggling with his gear. Kevin Hunt dropped his bag and Mercury jumped in to lend a hand by picking it up for him. The drill sergeant realized that this action had taken place and yelled to bring the march to a halt; he hurriedly strutted to the two young men, and while penetrating his glare into Kevin he began to holler,

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? WHERE ARE YOU FROM SOLDIER?”

Kevin shuddered and quickly answered,

“I am from Little Rock, Arkansas drill sergeant.”

Kevin instantly drifts off mentally and began to think about his home and how he missed his mother and little brother Roger. He wished that the military draft had never happened so that he could still be sitting at his desk writing poetry hoping that one-day he would be a great poet like William Shakespeare. Kevin loved to read and serenade his mind with beautiful poetic words.

The drill sergeant started to chuckle and hollered,

“LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS!

WE HAVE A LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS THAT CAN’T CARRY HIS BAGS!

WHAT IS THIS ARMY COMING TO?

YOU ARE NOW REFFERED TO AS “LITTLE ROCK” SOLDIER!

PICK YOUR BAGS UP AND LETS GO!

FORWARD, MARCH! MARCH! MARCH!”

The troop marched on with the drill sergeant chanting along the way. Mercury and Kevin looked at each other and just continued to march, and from that day on they were inseparable. Due to Mercury’s boxing hobby the physical training was sort of like a breezy walk in the park; however, for Kevin it was not that simple to keep up. Kevin was never so active physically and he even had many difficulties when it came to shooting at the firing range exercises.

One day Mark Snyder who was nicknamed “the bull”, because of his strong stature and bully tactics, approached Kevin during a shooting drill and began to make fun of him in a mockingly way.

“LOOK AT YOU LITTLE ROCK, YOU CAN’T EVEN SHOOT!

WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WHEN WE GET TO THE CHINK LAND?

THEY ARE GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Kevin just glared at him with a look of dismay and continued his drill. Mark walked away snickering and still making fun as he strolled off. Mark Snyder was from Lincoln, Nebraska and already had a brother and uncle in Vietnam. He was a quarterback for his high school football team and had always been rough around the edges because of his upbringing with an alcoholic and physically abusive father. Mark believed that if he installed fear in someone that he would never be left with his guard down and this is why he decided to enlist himself into the US Army. His mentality was to go physically hard, and mentally strong at all times. Not to mention that he was sort of a bully toward a lot of the weaker men in the unit.

Now the time had come and after eight weeks of boot camp, the trainees are now official soldiers of the United States army, and were being transferred to Cambodia, Vietnam for recon duty in a few days. Attached to an infantry division, Mercury, Kevin, and Mark were assigned to a five-man squad lead by Sgt. McNealy.

Sergeant Fredrick McNealy had been in the army for ten years and this was his second tour of duty in Vietnam. Fredrick was from Boston, Massachusetts where he was married with two children and was often known as an extremist. Having been confronted with alcoholism after the emotional and mental traumas from his first tour, he was placed on administrative leave. After his recovery, he was given a second chance to redeem himself from his past military failures on that current tour.

Being in Vietnam throughout that era when bloodshed was in every corner that you turned to, the feeling of distress was always glooming in the air. The jungle atmosphere didn’t make the experience any more comfortable when the soldiers had to take cover behind the trees not knowing when a piercing bullet would make its way towards the next mans skull.

One dreary morning during a recon mission in the jungle, they came across 7 Vietcong guerrilla soldiers executing an all out bloody massacre of 8 Vietnamese civilians. With a sneak attack working in the recon party’s favor; they fired and four guerrilla soldiers went down instantly, the other three paused in action and they began to put their hands in the air as if to surrender; however, within seconds one of the guerilla soldiers pulled out a hidden knife and struck Kevin “Little Rock” in the chest. Mercury instantly rushed to grab him as he fell.

With lightening speed, Mark “The Bull” automatically shoots the Vietcong in the torso bringing him to the ground. Mark had just received the news a couple days before that his uncle was killed by guerilla soldiers while out on a scout; therefore, as the guerilla soldier struggled to breath and crawl away, Mark walked over to him and with no mercy he looked down at the wounded guerilla soldier and shot him an additional five times at close range as he whispered,

“This is for my uncle! This is for America!”

The other two guerilla soldiers simultaneously took off in opposite directions disappearing into the jungle. All of a sudden an overwhelming feeling took over Mercury as he stood there thinking to himself,  “I shot my gun at these enemy soldiers and I know for sure that three to four bullets escaped my barrel. Did I actually kill another human being?” He felt guilt and anguish for being placed in that unfortunate situation.

Instantaneously the area became a gravesite with approximately twelve people dead. It began to rain uncontrollably causing the unit to lose communication with headquarters. Mercury pulled out the first aid kit and immediately began to clean and stitch up Kevin’s knife wound as he suffered in agonizing pain with every passing minute. Sgt. McNealy gathered everyone together to inform them that with bad weather and Little Rock’s injury that they will have to hold camp there until daylight. The sergeant also delegated one man/two hour guard duty shifts to be vigilant of any patrolling Vietcong guerilla soldiers in the area.

Tension was at an all time high and Mercury was called upon to pull the first watch. He began to patrol the perimeter with his colt pistol in hand. As he continued to circle the area he heard a faint whimper in the shadows. With his every step the whimper began to sound like a cry and to his surprise, in the bundles of leaves and brush there was a basket with a tiny Vietnamese baby inside completely drenched from the overpowering rain that consumed the jungle around them. The basket was nearly full with water and he just stood there frozen staring at the baby in complete bewilderment. With total chaos looming in the background he just wanted to be able to run and hide; however, he knew that it was not in him to do so. With the enemy somewhere in the mist, he knew that the only safe place for the baby would be at the campsite.

When Mercury returned to the campsite, Sergeant McNealy informed him that Little Rock’s condition was grave and that he may not make it through the night. When Mercury shared the news about the baby, it made the situation even tenser. Sergeant McNealy immediately ordered Mercury to put the child back where he found it, because it could have been a trap for the enemy to learn of their location. With the rain dropping with great force and his boots soaked inside out, Mercury retreated deep into the jungle with the baby in his arms. He believed that the child was teething because the baby was waling, he felt that the only solution was to place his dog tags in the baby’s mouth and to his amazement she stopped crying.

Mercury knew it was a little girl because he thought back to his sister being that age, and all he could think about was how cruel it would be to place the baby back into the jungle in the pouring rain and left alone to die. He thought about how the possibility of the baby’s family being killed in that massacre that his unit discovered earlier that day. The rain and thunder kept coming with a roaring vengeance and each time it hit his face his vision blurred with every step he took deeper and deeper into the jungle.

As he desperately continued his trek through the storm he thought about his family, and not knowing why he was drafted into a war with no real reason or understanding as to why he was there in the first place. He thought about his high school sweetheart Francis, what she could be doing at the time, and if he would ever see her again. His last thought was of the little Vietnamese baby that he was holding so close to his clutches, and what was he going to do about ensuring her safety from the evil that was lurking on every corner of that mystic jungle. Nightfall crept in without a single star in the sky; he must have traveled for hours, saturated with sweat and rain having all feeling left his body, when he quickly noticed a small hut appear in the distance.

As Mercury approached the hut, a middle aged Vietnamese woman emerged with a long sword in her hand, and she noticed that there was a baby in his arms. Mercury was completely freaked out by the woman’s appearance, and more so by the large weapon that she was wielding. He began to speak, but she quickly silenced him with a finger to her lips and signaled for him to follow her into the hut. With hesitation Mercury slowly followed her, and as he entered the hut an unfamiliar wretched odor tingled in his nostrils and caused him to gag. The woman quickly grabbed the baby from his arms as he stumbled in the corner due to the exhaustion that had taken over his body and mind. Mercury fell into a small sleep in the corner of the hut, as she laid the baby down and began to remove the wet rags that she was wearing, and into a fresh dry baby smock from a small clothing bin she had found in the corner of the hut.

Tien (in the Vietnamese culture it means angel, savior) had been hiding out in the hut after having survived a raid on her village by the Vietcong guerilla soldiers’ days earlier. They came in the still of the night and raped the women, then tortured and killed everyone in sight including the children. Astoundingly, she was able to escape only to feel guilty that she was not in her hut when they burned it to the ground. Every night since then she had been haunted in realization that she will never see her husband, son of age 7, and baby of 10 months again. Right before Mercury appeared with the baby, she had been contemplating using the sword to take her own life. She kneeled with the baby in her arms as she prayed to her God, asking for guidance in such a horrible time.

Meanwhile in the corner, Mercury began to awaken and noticed the woman kneeling in a prayer session, he instantly jumped to his feet. Tien turned to him and began rambling in Vietnamese; although, Mercury did not understand what the woman was saying, he was sure that she may have been warning him of the imminent danger in the jungle. While holding the baby in her arms she continued to beg him to stay but in his gut he knew that he had to be with his troops defending the perimeter and making sure that the enemy did not invade.

Too much time had passed with him deep in the jungle so he decided to abruptly leave. Mercury began to run as fast as he could through the trees, all the while keeping watch behind him. He could hear gunfire in the far distance that seemed to rumble in the air for a long time. There was pain and numbness in his legs, but he continued to run because he felt that something had went horribly wrong. All of a sudden the gunfire stopped; he paused from running and paralyzed with fear, all he could hear were cries in the jungle.

The element of surprise was lingering with every moment that passed so he started running again. However, after countless sounds of rumbling gunfire and running, he finally stopped to catch his breath, when several meters away he could hear soldiers approaching his location. Mercury quickly ducked and hid in a large brush of leaves as they lingered in the area. He was once again consumed with anxiety and fear; however, they didn’t see him and he decided to rest as he drifted into a sleep. Hours later he was awoken by the shuffling of the monkeys in the trees and more gunfire. He quietly stood up and began to start sprinting through the jungle once again. As he grew closer toward his camp he began to hear more and more gunfire, and this time it seemed to be coming from all directions. Mercury had now started running toward the booming noises when he stumbled upon two dead bodies. He kneeled down to see that one of them was Russell Hamilton nicknamed “Shorty”, and the other was…

Mercury’s mind faded as he thought back to the last words from Sergeant McNealy’s mouth. Then there he was with his face partially shot off.  Mercury moved to kneel beside his body and thought to himself, “oh no, it’s the sarg, and he’s dead. What could have happened? This is my fault; I was supposed to be guarding the perimeter. Oh no!” As he began to stand, he felt a pistol on the bottom of his foot; he picked up the gun and noticed that it was still warm. A commanding voice suddenly appeared and demanded that Mercury drop the gun and put his hands above his head. To his surprise, Special Forces instructing him to identify himself surrounded him. Mercury began to shout out his name and serial number loud and clear for them to hear.

“Mercury L. Taylor 107-02-7110! Mercury L. Taylor 107-02-7110!”

Unexpectedly, Lieutenant Carl Parker appeared and instructed Mercury to put his hands down.

“What has transpired here soldier?

We received information that this unit was ambushed and taking heavy fire from Vietcong guerrilla militia.

Our body count is 5 of ours, 8 Viet civilians, and 9 guerilla militia.

We will be taking you in for questioning soldier!”

Back at Division Command station in Bien Hoa, Vietnam, Mercury was interrogated over and over again by Colonel Edward Sawyer and Lt. Parker. He began to explain how when they first got to the camp there was already heavy gunfire in the air; that on their 3^rd day on a recon scout, his unit had encountered the guerilla soldiers murdering a village. Mercury stated that the guerilla soldiers opened fire on them and they had no choice but to fire back killing four of them, and the other three pretending to surrender, stabbed Kevin Hunt as the other two escaped into the jungle. Then he explained how while he patrolled the perimeter he found a little Vietnamese baby in a basket, upon bringing her to the camp, Sergeant McNealy ordered him to placed the baby back into the jungle. He talked about the hut, and the woman and how he left her the baby so that she could care for her. He began to cry and apologized by saying,

“I am sorry that I left my post beyond taking the baby back into the jungle, but I was not raised to just abandon an innocent baby in an atmosphere of complete chaos and destruction.”

Colonel Sawyer noticed the missing dog tags and asked,

“Soldier, where are your dog tags?

Mercury had just remembered that he had left the tags with the baby when he began to answer,

“awww, awwww, sir. I believe I lost them in the jungle.”

After the interrogation Lt. Parker was overly upset that Mercury had left the perimeter boundary to return a Vietnamese baby to safety leaving his troops open for enemy infiltration. Before the Lieutenant left the room he shamefully stated,

“Well as it stands, you are under arrest pending further investigation. You will be getting shipped back to the United States under military police escort to the stockade until your trial.

If your story is correct private, you saved the wrong life that night.”

Lt. Parker walked away shaking his head in disgrace; Mercury sat there in disbelief and completely horrified by what had just happened. What was he being arrested for? Saving an innocent baby? Abandoning his post? He was totally confused and did not understand what was happening. While in the stockade, he felt alone as the military police watched his every move, verbally abused his character by insinuating that he left his men for the traitors, and the newspaper headlines back home already declared him a communist dictator that allowed Vietcong guerilla soldiers to execute his unit.

Mercury couldn’t believe what was going on around him; everyone was lying and making false accusations when he knew what really happened in that jungle that awful night. He just wanted to drift into a long sleep and awaken to none of this happening. Being shipped back to the United States was depressing as he exited the plane with handcuffs attached to his wrist, he was greeted with crowds of angry people yelling and holding signs that said, “MURDERER!”

While at the court marshal trial he saw his mother and sister crying in the audience, as they waited to hear his fate along with every one else. The last thing he heard was,

“Mercury L. Taylor, we the United States Army find you guilty of the murder of Sgt. F. McNealy.

Including 4 counts of accessory to murder your fellow comrades.

Not limiting a count for being absent without leave from your assigned post.

You are hereby sentenced to life without parole at the federal penitentiary Fort Leavenworth…”

Author's Note

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