Crime Scene Cleanup

Criminality - A Loose Leaf from my Crime Scene Cleanup Book

Those against the war came from two identifiable camps. One religious, Quakers and Catholics, and two, college campuses. College campuses became violent as police and students first clashed on UC Berkley’s campus. Other campuses followed. Before long their anti-war protests spilled over into the streets. When it occurred, crime scene cleanup remained a simple blood cleanup task for fire departments.

The draft’s influence on college students remained obvious during those years. Without the draft our US war against Vietnam would have taken a different course. Many young men entered college to gain a “draft deferment.” Once there and their numbers swelling, a common bond grew. “Hell no we won’t go” became their chant.

Meanwhile, the civil rights movement grew. Chiasmic leaders like Martin Luther King and Malcom X caught media attention. came to public awareness. A proxy for the civil rights movement came in the form of one xxxxy/. The South’s racism became a recognized point of social change.

Soldiers talk about more than survival. Following the lead of a black fire team leader, “Little Robby,” exposed me to African American, working class ideas, the Chicago variety.

My mother’s “live-and-let-live” philosophy showed in my interactions with African Americans and ethnic soldiers in general. Of course we had little choice but to work together. Still, mom’s respect for African American’s and other none whites gave me a sense of ease. Interacting with different types of people came easily. We shared a lot as a result.

Robby lead and I followed. Robby dug half of our foxholes and I dug the other half. He inspected my grenade sumps for proper width and depth. More than once he had me redo sumps and parapets. Parapets gave us a mound of earth about 6 inches high, 2 feet wide. Good camouflage gave us a sense of security. With Robby’s leadership, we seldom came under scrutiny by our platoon sergeant.

In such foxholes Robby and I were to spend many hours talking about "the world" and what we read in Stars and Stripes. Robby assured me many times that “someone had a plan for us and we were fulfilling that plan,” no matter how many days became absurd.

Robby’s death left me without anyone to share my foxhole for a short while. A young, enthusiastic African American “cherry” from Florida arrived as a replacement for Robby. Robby had over five years in the Infantry. This kid, “Adam,” had no experience. We did manage to carry-on meaningful conversations for a short while. I shared what I could. Robby’s experience now echoed through my mind and voice. I became Adman’s mentor.

On his first day in first platoon Adman explained that he would be in country a short while. His mother had lost two sons in Vietnam, both special forces soldiers. Adman would receive duty in "the world" soon. Our relationship ended when I left for Rest-and-Relaxation (R and R) in Singapore. When I returned, I returned to an empty foxhole. Adman had died from an M-16 round to the back, a “friendly fire” victim. My sense of fairness, right-and-wrong raised a new level of universal wonder in young mind.

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