This sort of event, and the mindset of the villagers it so clearly reveals,
was described in graphic detail by one of the survivors of the infamous My Lai
massacre. What the girl says happened to "her sister" is documented history,
nothing more. "War is hell" was a phrase commonly heard from the villagers to
describe their helplessness in the face of the forces overwhelming them.
The sweep of the little village was almost complete. Eddie was watching one of the huts burn when he saw Ferry headed out toward the paddies, pushing a very young and very attractive Vietnamese girl ahead of him. His eyes like ice, he began almost ambling off in that direction, following them. But not too closely.
When he found them, out of sight behind some trees, Ferry's pants were down around his ankles; the girl, her shirt torn away and tears running from her eyes, was kneeling in front of him. The soldier was holding her by her hair, ramming his penis roughly into her mouth. In his right hand he held his M-16, the muzzle generally pointed at her.
Coming up behind him, Eddie just watched as his organ slipped back and forth between her lips. With an almost abstract curiosity, he listened to Ferry grunt, and after a while he saw the white semen start running back out of the girl's mouth, dripping on her knees and on the ground.
"Awright," Ferry told her as he dragged his pants up with one hand. "You ready for that big rice paddy in the sky?" He lifted his rifle, brought the muzzle up until it pointed at her left breast, and held it perhaps an inch from her skin.
She must have understood his intent. But she merely lifted her eyes, looked up at his face, and waited.
"Hey, Ferry," Eddie said amiably, coming closer to him.
The man turned his head quickly. "Oh, Ed," he responded. "Man, you oughta watch that! I mighta thought you was a gook!" He grinned. "I was just about ta do her," he said, waving a hand at the girl. "You wanta go before I do?"
"Uh-uh," Eddie said, very calmly. "Not what I had in mind." Just as quietly, before Ferry even saw what he was doing, he brought his own gun up, directing the barrel toward Ferry's ribs, and squeezed off a single shot.
The other soldier's body jerked; on his face was an expression of utter surprise, of disbelief. He looked down at himself, saw red rushing out from under his shirt, flowing over the half-raised pants. Urine sprayed from his half-erect penis. The girl, keeping her eyes on Eddie, moved very slightly to avoid the stream.
Ferry looked back up at him as well. "Why?" he asked in a choked voice. As he spoke, blood surged over his lip and chin; he gagged, spat up a chunk of bloody lung tissue.
He had no time to say anything else. Stiffly, almost like a felled tree, he toppled over backwards and hit the ground with a thud. His head came up for just an instant, more blood spouting from his mouth; then he fell back again and remained still. Eddie turned his gaze back to the girl.
"Why?" she echoed when his eyes met hers.
"You too? You speak English too?"
"Sorta."
"Mmm - well, good, good. Hoped you did. You ask why. Cause I wanted to talk to you, that's why."
"You crazy, GI?"
"Uh-huh. You bet. Crazy. Gotta be, gotta be. Would I be here if I wasn't crazy? Uh- uh. Wouldn't be here." He stopped, wiped his eyes. The girl just stared.
"What I wanta ask you," Eddie said, "is why."
She stared harder. "Why? Why what?"
"Why were you just sittin' there? You were gonna let 'im. Why?"
She frowned, but just a tiny bit. "I - uh, I give 'im blow job - uh, GI, he was gonna shoot - "
"I don't mean that! I know that! You think I'm stupid? Think I'm dumb? Shit, Goddamn! 'Course you're gonna give a Goddamn blowjob! Jesus!" He stopped again, rolled his eyes wildly. "No, after. He was gonna shoot you. He said so. You knew that, didn't you? Didn't you?"
Her eyes moved from one of his to the other. "Yes," she said very slowly, dragging the word out. "Yes, I knew."
"Then why? Why'd you just sit there? Why didn't you yell? Why didn't you get up and run? Hell, he mighta missed! But no, you were just gonna sit there and let 'im kill you! Why? I wanta know why!"
There was a short pause, but finally the girl spoke again. "GI, you not the first ones around here, okay? ARVN, Koreans come around here, okay? Kill lots of us. My sister, Koreans rape her, lots of them rape her, then they cut her head off! I see that okay. She not fight them. Just let them cut her head off. So she's dead, they all laugh, carry the head around, throw it around, throw it at each other. Then they go away, leave us alone. You see?"
He scowled at her. "No, I don't see! You wanta - "
"No," she said, leaning forward, into her discourse now. "No, I tell you! GI has a good time, kills one girl, okay? Feels good, leaves other people alone. One dies, others live, okay?" She paused, gestured toward the dead man. "I run off, he chases me. Maybe he catches me, kills me anyway. Then he's mad, goes to kill some more. Maybe he doesn't catch me. He's more mad, goes and kills lots more. See? One dies, rest okay. Better that way."
Now Eddie was silent for quite a while, watching the girl's face very carefully. "So you're telling me," he said at length, "that you were gonna let him kill you so's he'd be - uh, satisfied? Not kill anybody else?" She nodded vigorously. "Hell, it don't always work like that! Some of these guys, shit, they get - they go crazy! Kill one, they wanta kill a hundred!"
She shrugged. "I know. What to do? War is hell!"
He rubbed his chin, looking hard at her. "So what you're sayin', you don't give a damn if you get killed. If I wanted to kill you right now, you just wouldn't say a word about it. Right?"
A look of concern crossed her face. "Uh--uh, GI, uh--I don't wanna die--uh, I just-- you don't--"
He laughed. "Hey! That's what you just said! Maybe I wanna cut your head off! Maybe if I don't, I go back in the village and kill all your fucking relatives! What do you say?"
She looked down at the ground. "No--you saved me--killed other GI--you don't want to--!" Her eyes came back up, pleading with him desperately.
Squatting in front of her, he grinned. "Nah. I don't wanna kill you, I really don't." She started to return his smile, but with a sudden movement, he drew out his K-bar and tossed it on the ground in front of her. "I wanna see you kill yourself!"
There was a long silence.
"I mean it," he told her warningly. "If you don't, I'll shoot you. Then I'll go back to the village and kill your folks. You got it?"
She sighed. More tears appeared on her cheeks, but she reached down and picked up the knife. Very slowly, saying nothing, she brought it up toward her throat.
"Uh-uh," he instructed, waggling a finger. "First off, get up and get outa those pants. I wanna see you." Putting the knife down, she did; he stared for an instant at her lightly- haired pubes. Without his asking, she retrieved the knife and brought it up toward her chest, toward the area of her heart.
"No, dammit!" he snapped. "Not there, either! In your belly! Where it'll take a few minutes for you to die!"
With still another sigh, she lowered the blade and put the point against her abdomen, just over her navel. Holding it there, she paused. Her eyes came back up to his.
"Well?" he snarled. "What're you waiting for? Stick it in!" He grinned, sure she wouldn't do it. And knowing he had no intention of shooting her, or anyone else. He just wanted to hear her beg a little more; he wanted to feel godlike, he wanted to be able to grant her continued life. Disappointingly, though, she'd stopped begging; she was just staring at him. As the moments slipped by, the game he as playing began to seem childish and stupid.
He was just about to give it up when he saw the muscles of her slender arms tense. She jerked the knife back toward herself hard, and half of the eight inch blade disappeared into her body.
Stunned, Eddie watched her blood start to surge out. Doubling over the knife, she moaned in pain, but even so, she yanked it again.
Laying his rifle down, he reached for her, pulled her back upright. Seven inches of the blade were inside her; blood was pouring over her thighs. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed with the pain as she let the knife go, left it in her body.
He started to help her lie down, but she winced in agony with each movement. Taking a deep breath, Eddie reached down and gently slipped the knife out of her. She gasped as it came free; a river of blood followed it out.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he held her on his lap, heedless of the blood that was soaking his pants and boots. He could smell the feces from her torn intestines, the sickly-sweet odor of the fresh blood. As he cradled her head like a lover, she looked up at him, a question in her eyes.
"No," he said softly. "I'm not going to kill anyone. No one at all."
She sighed, forced a little smile, then pressed her body against him as if she was cold. Gently, he caressed her, stroking her hair; he couldn't help looking down at her wound in her belly, at the steady flow of blood.
"That took a hell of a lot of courage," he told her quietly.
"It doesn't hurt now," she replied softly. Reaching down with one hand, she pressed her abdomen; a fresh surge of blood came rushing out. "I know I'm dying--you stick knife in me again, GI, it okay--won't hurt - "
He was almost crying. "No--no, it's all right. Just relax, just take it easy, it's all right."
He clutched her to himself, kissed her cheek, and kept caressing her for at least ten
minutes. Then he looked into her eyes and realized that she had died.