TOC

(Tactical Operations Center)

so often I could see the boy shining through the façade of manhood

as you tried to be the first to yell out the name of the team

who won the world series in 1950

but not this morning as I watched you attach

grenades and canteens to web gear,

sling bandoleers of ammo across your broad shoulders

check your M-16s for peak performance

it was hard to fathom that you would soon be carrying

those heavy rucks

PRC-25

and M60

through miles of rice paddies

using the bug juice to coax off the leeches

no, today there would be no time to play donut dollie games

today it was necessary for you to be men

but, even as you donned your warrior gear

and steel pots adorned with

peace symbols

and “short”

you still had smiles for us

the best we could do for you today was smile back

take pictures

remind you that you weren’t animals

and walk down to the pick up point with you

to wait for the choppers

I don’t know how long we sat in that field

doing the donut dollie alternative to programming

“where ‘ya  from?

what’s your favorite food?

favorite sport?

who’s your favorite actress?”

I do remember that one kid from your company

pulled a branch from a nipa palm tree

and wove me a hat as easily as

a donut dollie made kool-aid

I remember the choppers landing

watching you jump on

and waving until you were completely out of sight

before we moved on to play games with the next company

later that day we were visiting the guys in the TOC

making jokes and laughing

when your call came in

I did not understand all of the code words

but understood enough to know you were

calling in fire support

and dustoffs

somewhere deep inside,

I added another sandbag to the bunker

I was building around my heart

and put on my eleanor rigsby face

that i kept in the jar by the door

as we moved on to play games with

the next company

emily strange

© 1999