Tale of Johnny Ray

Thank-you, kinda stalled out, but trying to get back into it.

 

One, two, three, what are we fighting for
Don't ask me, I don't give a ####
Next stop is Vietnam

Country Joe McDonald

Our preacher back home once told us a story of a man who was distraught at having no shoes, until he met a man with no feet.
Well, Eugene Beck, from Faben, West Virginia personified that story. Eugene, aptly dubbed "Miner" since his first day in uniform was the only person we knew
who was truly happy to have been drafted. Had his father allowed it, he would have gladly enlisted on his eighteenth birthday, rather than waiting around for his draft notice,
which he received shortly after he turned nineteen.
He was already a four year veteran of the coal mines by then, along with his father and three brothers. It was a family tradition in those parts, one which
Miner wasn't too fond of. Despite a ninth grade education, he picked up on the fact that despite having four paychecks coming into the same househhold,
they were pretty #### poor. With three older brothers, Miner had never owned a new shirt or pair of pants his entire life. He was thrilled with the new uniforms
issued to him by his new uncle Sam.
Something else that did not escape Miner was the mortality rate among the men that worked the mines. If a cave-in didn't get you, black lung might.
Young men in their twenties and thirties had haunted looks of despair beyond their years. Miner was determined for that not to be his fate and felt blessed
to be carrying a rifle rather than a pick and shovel.
Despite his cheerful disposition, four years underground had given his pale skin and eerie pallor and it seemed to be permantly stained with coal dust.
Perhaps it was an illusion projected by his stoic demeanor, but he also seemed to possess wisdom that belied his age and education.

Ant and I managed to remain together after basic training and became fast friends with Miner. Being the biggest guy in the squad, Miner was the designated M-60 gunner, and he handled it with ease.

"I can't believe I met somebody who talks funnier than you do, Reb" Ant joked.
"Well at least he don't talk like a dang yankee" I told him.
Ant and I often took friendly jabs at each other, but Miner rarely joined in. He was friendly enough, but was pretty quiet for the most part. But you always had the
idea he listened to everything that was said. He never dozed in class and seemed eager to learn. I knew already that was the kind of fellow I wanted to have my
back when things got heavy.

 

Our monthly payday fell on a monday, which made for a lot of broke GIs that weekend prior. But thanks to our frugal friend, Miner, we were enjoying a cold
pitcher of beer at the bowling alley. Almost had the place to ourselves. After being nearly pennyless his entire life, Miner felt truly blessed to have nearly
$200 to himself every month and gently admonished us for having blown our fortune so quickly.
"You have to cut Ant some slack" I told Miner. "You know how it is with those city boys, being used to fine wine and fast women and such"
"Yeah, yeah Reb, whatever. At least I ain't blowing my dough on chewing tobacco and boiled peanuts" Ant shot back.
Miner seemed mildly amused. Perhaps a little alcohol would loosen his tongue tonight, but he seemed to be drinking cautiously.
"So Miner" I ventured. "Yall kick back and drink a cold beer every now and then back home?"
"Momma and daddy was strict Babtists" Miner said, as if that explained everything.Then he continued. "But there was some drinkin going on. Shine
mostly. That stuff was poison you ask me. Got a uncle gone blind but still drinks it some. He's kinda crazy anyway. Don't know if the mines made him that way,
or the shine done it. Don't really matter in the long run I reckon. I knew when I was just a youngun that stuff was bad and couldn't figure out why the grown folks
couldn't see it. Later on I figured out that being older don't always make you no smarter."
"No it don't Miner. No it don't" I agreed.

We all got quiet for a while, each lost in his own thoughts when Ant blurted out, "You guys ever think what it's like to kill a guy? I mean, for real. You know it's coming. They teach us how to shoot. They teach us how to blow up stuff. But nobody says a #### thing about what happens when you kill another man."
What a surprise coming from Ant. He was always so nonchalant about everything. Told us he was going to be the Audie Murphy of the Nam.
I always figured having Henderson's guts blew all over him in basic did something, but he would never let on if it did.

I had been asking myself the same thing. We all did I'm sure. We had been told that 90% of our graduating class would be going straight to Vietnam. Maybe more.
Nearly every night, you could hear a couple of guys discussing this very subject. Occasionally someone could be heard crying during the night.
Probably more from a fear of being killed than having to kill. Either way, this was the most serious issue any of us had ever had to deal with in our young lives.
We were riding in a runaway train with Casey Jones asleep at the wheel. All we could do was hope the train came to a peaceful stop before it derailed on a
mountain grade. Either way, we were in for a wild ride.

 

"So do you really think he bought that story Earl?" Linda asked as she lit her third cigarette in the last half hour.
"Don't know hon, the kid ain't dumb, that's for sure. Could be just some crazy coincidence," Earl responded.
"Oh come on Earl, you're a smart cop. And how many times over the years have you told me there is no such thing as a coincidence?
What are the odds some guy just shows up like that, from Tifton of all places."
"Yeah, but we don't know for sure if he has ever even seen a picture or not. Even so, it would be over twenty years old" he answered.
"Earl, you know me and her are practically twins, and you better not be saying I have aged that #### much" she teased.
"Are you questioning my powers of perception young lady?" he teased back.
"Nah, it's not that, just saying there is no way he could be sure. Can only hope he shakes it off, maybe has second thoughts. Hard to say yet."

And so it went as they shared some BBQ and sweet tea at the picnic table. Stone Mountain Park was a short drive from town, yet offered a fair amount of seclusion.
Seclusion they sought when their love affair began years ago.
No longer necessary since Earls wife succumbed to a long bout with cancer, but they continued to meet here on occasion, especially on nice sunny days as this.
Earl considered himself something of a Civil War buff, and he felt protected under the watchful eye of General Robert E, Lee whose giant image was carved into the 825 feet tall wall of granite that loomed over them.
Linda thought this was silly and superstitious, but she had to admit she always felt safe here.
But then again, she always felt safe with Earl, ever since he saved her life, all those years ago.