Silent Night
Short Story
By Grey Webb
For South Vietnam it was a silent night, the moon rising above a tree line, the night air calm like I had not experienced since I arrived in-country three months before. A quick glance at my Army issued Timex watch with its phosphorescent hands showed 2330 hours, my civilian mind translating it as 11:30 PM.
Ignoring my present location on the perimeter of a fire support base in South Vietnam, tonight could have been another South Florida Christmas Eve just like the ones that I now warmly remembered.
My fear of suddenly being shot dead had diminished some time ago, but the apprehension of the unknown always haunted me. Tonight however, my senses were subdued as if the Spirit of the Christmas Season had descended around me and my platoon. The rumor was that the North Vietnamese and U.S. forces had entered into a 48 hour truce. My platoon had been given instructions not to open fire unless fired upon first; a risky order to give a collection of hardened, trigger happy, barely out of high school troopers. Yet, even the most hard-edged soldier could not be blamed for feeling the tug of home and family tonight.
The minutes slowly turned to hours and my thoughts turned to home and Christmas. It was the Christmas I got the train set, family around the dinner table, football on TV, dad reading from the Bible, mom playing the piano and everyone signing carols. Oh, for just one hour of that sweet precious time. Thirty years from now, how would I remember this Christmas?
Another look at my watch: 0300 hours, at least the NVA are holding to the cease fire. I could barely make out the tree line now that the moon was directly overhead. If there was going to be any movement from Charlie, it would come from those trees. Glancing again into the eastern sky I could make out an illumination round; it appeared to be suspend in mid-air. Illumination rounds were fired by the artillery and would slowly descend using a parachute to light up a target area. Normally they were utilized to assist in spotting enemy movement. Some poor soul had called in an illumination fire mission because his unit had made contact with the NVA. It wasn’t going to be a peaceful Christmas morning for those soldiers. That’s strange, I thought, it isn’t moving, it’s just hanging there. It has to be more that a mile away but its much brighter than any other I’ve seen.
Sergeant Russo whispered: “Hey lieutenant, you see that illumination round, it hasn’t moved.”
“It’s not an illumination round,” I said, “It’s something else.” I knew what it was but kept my far-fetched thought to myself.
“Lieutenant, you don’t think it’s…nah, never mind” Russo slowly made the sign of the cross and kissed the St. Christopher attached to his dog tags.
“Merry Christmas sarge”, I whispered with a smile.
Short Story
By Grey Webb
For South Vietnam it was a silent night, the moon rising above a tree line, the night air calm like I had not experienced since I arrived in-country three months before. A quick glance at my Army issued Timex watch with its phosphorescent hands showed 2330 hours, my civilian mind translating it as 11:30 PM.
Ignoring my present location on the perimeter of a fire support base in South Vietnam, tonight could have been another South Florida Christmas Eve just like the ones that I now warmly remembered.
My fear of suddenly being shot dead had diminished some time ago, but the apprehension of the unknown always haunted me. Tonight however, my senses were subdued as if the Spirit of the Christmas Season had descended around me and my platoon. The rumor was that the North Vietnamese and U.S. forces had entered into a 48 hour truce. My platoon had been given instructions not to open fire unless fired upon first; a risky order to give a collection of hardened, trigger happy, barely out of high school troopers. Yet, even the most hard-edged soldier could not be blamed for feeling the tug of home and family tonight.
The minutes slowly turned to hours and my thoughts turned to home and Christmas. It was the Christmas I got the train set, family around the dinner table, football on TV, dad reading from the Bible, mom playing the piano and everyone signing carols. Oh, for just one hour of that sweet precious time. Thirty years from now, how would I remember this Christmas?
Another look at my watch: 0300 hours, at least the NVA are holding to the cease fire. I could barely make out the tree line now that the moon was directly overhead. If there was going to be any movement from Charlie, it would come from those trees. Glancing again into the eastern sky I could make out an illumination round; it appeared to be suspend in mid-air. Illumination rounds were fired by the artillery and would slowly descend using a parachute to light up a target area. Normally they were utilized to assist in spotting enemy movement. Some poor soul had called in an illumination fire mission because his unit had made contact with the NVA. It wasn’t going to be a peaceful Christmas morning for those soldiers. That’s strange, I thought, it isn’t moving, it’s just hanging there. It has to be more that a mile away but its much brighter than any other I’ve seen.
Sergeant Russo whispered: “Hey lieutenant, you see that illumination round, it hasn’t moved.”
“It’s not an illumination round,” I said, “It’s something else.” I knew what it was but kept my far-fetched thought to myself.
“Lieutenant, you don’t think it’s…nah, never mind” Russo slowly made the sign of the cross and kissed the St. Christopher attached to his dog tags.
“Merry Christmas sarge”, I whispered with a smile.
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