【英文原版小說】the things they carried《負荷》

'HowtoTellaTrueWarStory','SweetheartoftheSongTraBong',FlamingoHammersmith,Londonw68jbHarperCollinsPublishersLimitedCopyrigk?TimO'Brien1990TheAuthorassertsthemoralrighttoAuthorphotograph?JerryBauerSetinJansonPrintedandboundinGreatBritainbyClaysLtd,StIvesplcThisbookislovinglydedicatedtotoJimmyCross,NormanBowker,MythankstoErikHansen,RustHills,and,aboveall,toAnnO'BrienThisisaworkoffiction.theauthor'sownlife,allthe1232937576165TheDentist8185109113119127133137153161177181189213219Thisbookisessentiallydifferentfromanyotherthathasbeenpublishedconcerningthe'latewar'oranyofitsincidents.Thosewhohavehadanyatonce,andtoallotherreadersitiscommendedencedthemtothefullest.JohnRansom'sAndersonvilleDiaryTHETHINGSFirstLieutenantJimmyCrosscarriedlettersfromagirlnamedMartha,ajunioratMountSebastianCollegeinNewJersey.Theywerenotloveletters,butLieutenantCrosswashoping,sohekeptthemfoldedinplasticatthebottomofhisrucksack.Inthelateafternoon,afteraday'smarch,hewoulddighisfoxhole,washhishandsunderacanteen,unwraptheletters,holdthemwiththetipsofhisfingers,andspendthelasthouroflightpretending.HewouldimagineromanticcampingtripsintotheWhiteMountainsinNewHampshire.Hewouldsometimestastetheenvelopeflaps,knowinghertonguehadbeenthere.Morethananything,hewantedMarthatolovehimashelovedher,butthelettersweremostlychatty,elusiveonthematteroflove.Shewasavirgin,hewasalmostsure.ShewasanEnglishmajoratMountSebastian,andshewrotebeautifullyaboutherprofessorsandroommatesandmidtermexams,aboutherrespectforChaucerandhergreataffectionforVirginiaWoolf.Sheoftenquotedlinesofpoetry;shenevermentionedthewar,excepttosay,Jimmy,takecareofyourself.Thelettersweighed10ounces.TheyweresignedLove,Martha,butLieutenantCrossunderstoodthatLovewasonlyawayofsigninganddidnotmeanwhathesometimespretendeditmeant.Atdusk,hewouldcarefullyreturntheletterstohisrucksack.Slowly,abitdistracted,hewouldgetupandmoveamonghismen,checkingtheperimeter,thenatfulldarkhewouldreturntohisholeandwatchthenightandwonderifMarthawasavirgin.Thethingstheycarriedwerelargelydeterminedbynecessity.Amongthenecessitiesornear-necessitieswereP-38canopeners.4THKTHINGSTHKYCARRIKDhadbeenpresentedtohimbyhisfather,whotaughtSundayBecausethelandwasminedandbooby-trapped,itwasSOPtheyusedhisponchotowraphimup,thentocarryhimawayTHK.THINGSTHEYCARRIKD56[HI.THINGSTHKYCARRIKDthirdorfourthmancarriedaClaymoreantipersonnelmine-grenades-14ounceseach.TheyallcarriedatleastoneM-18coloredsmokegrenade-24ounces.SomecarriedCSortear-gas10IHKTHINGSTHKYCARRIKDcouragetodragyouout?Insomerespects,thoughnotmany,HenryDobbinsateatropicalchocolatebar.TedLavenderTheywerepressedtogether,andthepebbleinhismouthwas12THKTHINGSIHKYCARRIKDHeputhishandonthedeadboy'swrist.Hewasquietfora /blades,chewingtobacco,liberatedjosssticksandstatuettesofTHKTHINGSTHIsYCARRIED13-Vietnam,theplace,thesoil-apowderyorange-reddustthatvillagetovillage,withoutpurpose,nothingwonorlost.Theycal.Theyhadnosenseofstrategyormission.Theysearchedthevillageswithoutknowingwhattolookfor,notcaring,kickingsometimessettingfiresandsometimesnot,thenformingupandmovingontothenextvillage,thenothervillages,whereitwouldalongtherouteofmarch.Purelyforcomfort,theywouldthroweggsforEaster-itwasthegreatAmericanwarchest-thefruitstheMinnesotaforests,themachineshops,thevastfieldsofcornbacksandshoulders-andforalltheambiguitiesofVietnam,Apisser,youknow?Stillzippinghimselfup.ZappedwhileOnethingforsure,hesaid.Thelieutenant'sinsomedeephurt.Imeanthatcryingjag-thewayhewascarryingon-itl6?THKTHINGSTHEYCARRIEDthenvoices.Itwastheburdenofbeingalive.Awkwardly,thejuststagepresence.Theywereactors.Whensomeonedied,itanddestroytherealityofdeathitself.Theykickedcorpses.Theycutoffthumbs.Theytalkedgruntlingo.TheytoldstoriesaboutTedLavender'ssupplyoftranquilizers,howthepoorguydidn'tCute,saidHenryDobbins.Mindblower,getit?Talkaboutwiggy.Nothingleft,justbloodTheymadethemselveslaugh.Thereitis,they'dsay.Overandover-thereitis,myfriend,betweencrazyandalmostcrazy,knowingwithoutgoing,thereitTheyweretough.Theycarriedalltheemotionalbaggageofmenwhomightdie.Grief,terror,love,longing-thesewereintangibles,butthegibleweight.Theycarriedshamefulmemories.Theycarriedtheofall,foritcouldneverbeputdown,itrequiredperfectbalancethesoldier'sgreatestfear,whichwasthefearofblushing.Menmgone!-anditwasarestful,unencumberedsensation,justofMcDonald's,itwasflight,akindoffleeing,akindoffalling,fallinghigherandhigher,spinningofftheedgeoftheearthandrainfalling,whichmadeitdifficult,butheusedheattabsandtoo,butmostlystupid.Besides,theletterswereinhishead.Andevennow,withoutinherwhitegymshortsandyellowT-shirt.Hecouldseehermovingintherain.Therewasnogreatmystery,hedecided.Hehatedher.Yes,hedid.Hehatedher.Love,too,butitwasaHalfsmiling,LieutenantJimmyCrosstookouthismaps.He2OTHETHINGSTHEYCARRIED

26THKTHINGSTHKYCARRIKDandthenadance,andthenafterwardtheytookawalkacrossFortherestofhisvisitIsteeredtheconversationawayfromLOVE27Martha.Attheend,though,aswewerewalkingouttohiscar,ItoldhimthatI'dliketowriteastoryaboutsomeofthis.Jimmythoughtitoverandthengavemealittlesmile.'Whynot?'hesaid.'Maybeshe'llreaditandcomebegging.There'salwayshope,right?''Right,'Isaid.Hegotintohiscarandrolleddownthewindow.'Makemeouttobeagoodguy,okay?Braveandhandsome,allthatstuff.Bestplatoonleaderever.'Hehesitatedforasecond.'Anddomeafavor.Don'tmentionanythingabout-''No,'Isaid,'Iwon't.'Theplayingfieldwaslaidoutinastrictgrid,notunnelsorspin33Therewereactuallytearsintheoldguy'seyes.'Followdink,'hesaidtoeachofus,'yougopink.'Ifyouweren'thumping,youwerewaiting.Irememberthemonotony.Diggingfoxholes.Slappingmosquitoes.Thesunandtheheatandtheendlesspaddies.Eveninthedeepbush,whereyoucoulddieanynumberofways,thewarwasnakedlyandaggressivelyboring.Butitwasastrangeboredom.Itwasboredomwithatwist,thekindofboredomthatcausedstomachdisorders.You'dbesittingatthetopofahighhill,theflatpaddiesstretchingoutbelow,andthedaywouldbecalmandhotandutterlyvacant,andyou'dfeeltheboredomdrippinginsideyoulikealeakyfaucet,exceptitwasn'twater,itwasasortofacid,andwitheachlittledropletyou'dfeelthestuffeatingawayatimportantorgans.You'dtrytorelax.You'duncurlyourfistsandletyourthoughtsgo.Well,you'dthink,thisisn'tsobad.Andrightthenyou'dheargunfirebehindyouandyournutswouldflyupintoyourthroatandyou'dbesquealingpigsqueals.Thatkindofboredom.Ifeelguiltysometimes.Forty-threeyearsoldandI'mstillwritingwarstories.MydaughterKathleentellsmeit'sanobsession,thatIshouldwriteaboutalittlegirlwhofindsamilliondollarsandspendsitallonaShetlandpony.Inaway,Iguess,she'sright:Ishouldforgetit.Butthethingaboutrememberingisthatyoudon'tforget.Youtakeyourmaterialwhereyoufindit,whichisinyourlife,attheintersectionofpastandpresent.Thememory-trafficfeedsintoarotaryupinyourhead,whereitgoesincirclesforawhile,thenprettysoonimaginationflowsinandthetrafficmergesandshootsoffdownathousanddifferentstreets.Asawriter,allyoucandoispickastreetandgofortheride,puttingthingsdownastheycomeatyou.That'stherealobsession.Allthosestories.Notbloodystories,necessarily.Happystories,too,andevenafewpeacestories.Here'saquickpeacestory:AguygoesAWOL.ShacksupinDanangwithaRedCross34THKTHINGSIHKYCARRIEDnurse.It'sagreattime-thenurseloveshimtodeath—theguygetswhateverhewantswheneverhewantsit.Thewar'sover,hethinks.Justnoolcieandnewangles.Butthenonedayherejoinshisunitinthebush.Can'twaittogetbackintoaction.Finallyoneofhisbuddiesaskswhathappenedwiththenurse,whysohotforcombat,andtheguysays,'Allthatpeace,man,itfeltsogoodithurt.Iwanttohurtitback.'IrememberMitchellSanderssmilingashetoldmethatstory.MostBecauseit'sallrelative.You'repinneddowninsomefilthyhellholeofapaddy,gettingyourassdeliveredtokingdomcome,butthenforafewsecondseverythinggoesquietandyoulookupandseethesunandafewpuffywhiteclouds,andtheimmenseserenityflashesagainstyoureyeballs-thewholeworldgetsrearranged-andeventhoughyou'repinneddownbyawaryouneverfeltmoreatpeace.Whatstickstomemory,often,arethoseoddlittlefragmentsthathavenobeginningandnoend:NormanBowkerlyingonhisbackonenight,watchingthestars,thenwhisperingtome,'I'lltellyousomething,O'Brien.IfIcouldhaveonewish,anything,I'dwishformydadtowritemealetterandsayit'sokayifIdon'twinanymedals.That'sallmyoldmantalksabout,nothingelse.Howhecan'twaittoseemygoddamnmedals.'OrKiowateachingaraindancetoRatKileyandDaveJensen,thethreeofthemwhoopingandleapingaroundbarefootwhileabunchofvillagerslookedonwithamixtureoffascinationandgigglyhorror.Afterward,Ratsaid,'Sowhere'stherain?'andKiowasaid,'Theearthisslow,butthebuffaloispatient,'andRatthoughtaboutitandsaid,'Yeah,butwhere'stherain?'OrTedLavenderadoptinganorphanpuppy-feedingitfromaplasticspoonandcarryingitinhisrucksackuntilthedayAzarONTHERAINYRIVER41'Nothing,'Isaid.'Wait.'gettingdatesthatsummer.Ifeltisolated;IspentalotoftimeONTHERAINYRIVER■43abreakforit,justtakeoffandrunlikehellandneverstop.Intyranny,orthenatureofVietnamesenationalism,orthelongONTHERAINYRIVF.R45borderathighspeedandcrashthroughandkeeponrunning.46THKTHINGSTHEYCARRIEDElroyBerdahl:eighty-oneyearsold,skinnyandshrunkenandmostlybald.Heworeaflannelshirtandbrownworkpants.Inonehand,Iremember,hecarriedagreenapple,asmallparingknifeintheother.Hiseyeshadthebluish-graycolorofarazorblade,thesamepolishedshine,andashepeeredupatmeIfeltastrangesharpness,almostpainful,acuttingsensation,asifhisgazeweresomehowslicingmeopen.Inpart,nodoubt,itwasmyownsenseofguilt,butevensoI'mabsolutelycertainthattheoldmantookonelookandwentrighttotheheartofthings-akidintrouble.WhenIaskedforaroom,Elroymadealittleclickingsoundwithhistongue.Henodded,ledmeouttooneofthecabins,anddroppedakeyinmyhand.Iremembersmilingathim.IalsorememberwishingIhadn't.Theoldmanshookhisheadasiftotellmeitwasn'tworththebother.'Dinneratfive-thirty,'hesaid.'Youeatfish?''Anything,'Isaid.Elroygruntedandsaid,'I'llbet.'WespentsixdaystogetherattheTipTopLodge.Justthetwoofus.Touristseasonwasover,andtherewerenoboatsontheriver,andthewildernessseemedtowithdrawintoagreatpermanentstillness.OverthosesixdaysElroyBerdahlandItookmostofourmealstogether.Inthemorningswesometimeswentoutonlonghikesintothewoods,andatnightweplayedScrabbleorlistenedtorecordsorsatreadinginfrontofhisbigstonefireplace.AttimesIfelttheawkwardnessofanintruder,butElroyacceptedmeintohisquietroutinewithoutfussorceremony.Hetookmypresenceforgranted,thesamewayhemight'veshelteredastraycat-nowastedsighsorpity-andtherewasneveranytalkaboutit.Justtheopposite.WhatIremembermorethananythingistheman'swillful,almostferocioussilence.Inallthattimetogether,allthosehours,heneveraskedtheobviousquestions:WhywasIthere?Whyalone?Whysopreoccupied?IfElroywascuriousaboutanyofthis,hewascarefulnevertoputitintowords.Myhunch,though,isthathealreadyknew.Atleastthebasics.wasjustaboatrideaway.ElroyBerdahlwasnohick.Hisbedroom,ONTHERAINYRIVER47Nowandthenhe'dcatchmestaringoutattheriver,atthefar48THKTHINGSTHKYCARRIF.DONTHERAINYRIVER49...'No.'ONTHERAINYRIVER51toguidemeacrosstheriverandtotakemetotheedgeandto52THKTHINGSTHF.YCARRIEDtightness.AndIwantyoutofeelit-thewindcomingofftheriver,thewaves,thesilence,thewoodedfrontier.You'reatthebowofaboatontheRainyRiver.You'retwenty-oneyearsold,you'rescared,andthere'sahardsqueezingpressureinyourchest.Whatwouldyoudo?Wouldyoujump?Wouldyoufeelpityforyourself?Wouldyouthinkaboutyourfamilyandyourchildhoodandyourdreamsandallyou'releavingbehind?Wouldithurt?Woulditfeellikedying?Wouldyoucry,asIdid?Itriedtoswallowitback.Itriedtosmile,exceptIwascrying.Now,perhaps,youcanunderstandwhyI'venevertoldthisstorybefore.It'snotjusttheembarrassmentoftears.That'spartofit,nodoubt,butwhatembarrassesmemuchmore,andalwayswill,istheparalysisthattookmyheart.Amoralfreeze:Icouldn'tdecide,Icouldn'tact,Icouldn'tcomportmyselfwithevenapretenseofmodesthumandignity.AttherearoftheboatElroyBerdahlpretendednottonotice.Heheldafishingrodinhishands,hisheadbowedtohidehiseyes.Hekepthummingasoft,monotonouslittletune.Everywhere,itseemed,inthetreesandwaterandsky,agreatworldwidesadnesscamepressingdownonme,acrushingsorrow,sorrowlikeIhadneverknownitbefore.Andwhatwassosad,Irealized,wasthatCanadahadbecomeapitifulfantasy.Sillyandhopeless.Itwasnolongerapossibility.Rightthen,withtheshoresoclose,IunderstoodthatIwouldnotdowhatIshoulddo.Iwouldnotswimawayfrommyhometownandmycountryandmylife.Iwouldnotbebrave.Thatoldimageofmyselfasahero,asamanofconscienceandcourage,allthatwasjustathreadbarepipedream.BobbingthereontheRainyRiver,lookingbackattheMinnesotashore,Ifeltasuddenswellofhelplessnesscomeoverme,adrowningsensation,asifIhadtoppledoverboardandwasbeingsweptawaybythesilverwaves.Chunksofmyownhistoryflashedby.Isawaseven-year-oldboyinawhitecowboyhatandaLoneRangermaskandapairofholstcredsix-shooters;Isawatwelve-year-oldLittleLeagueshortstoppivotingtoturnadoubleplay;Isawasixteen-year-oldkiddeckedoutforhisfirstprom,lookingspiffyinawhitetuxandONTHERAINYRIVER53shoreortheother.Isawfacesfrommydistantpastanddistant

future.Mywifewasthere.Myunborndaughterwavedatme,

andmytwosonshoppedupanddown,andadrillsergeant

theBronx.TherewasaslimyoungmanIwouldonedaykill

withahandgrenadealongaredclaytrailoutsidethevillageof

Allthoseeyesonme-thetown,thewholeuniverse—andIIfeltmyselfblush.Icouldn'ttolerateit.Icouldn'tenduretheIwouldgotothewar-Iwouldkillandmaybedie-becauseIlinewiththetipsofhisfingers,patiently,squintingoutathisredandwhitebobberontheRainyRiver.Hiseyeswereflatandthelate-summersun.Andyetbyhispresence,hismutewatchfulness,hemadeitreal.Hewasthetrueaudience.Hewasawitness,likeGod,orlikethegods,wholookoninabsolutethem.breakfastforme.WhenItoldhimI'dbeleaving,theoldmanONIHF.RAINYRIVKR55noddedasifhealreadyknew.Helookeddownatthetableandsmiled.Atsomepointlaterinthemorningit'spossiblethatweshookhands-Ijustdon'tremember-butIdoknowthatbythetimeI'dfinishedpackingtheoldmanhaddisappeared.Aroundnoon,whenItookmysuitcaseouttothecar,Inoticedthathisoldblackpickuptruckwasnolongerparkedinfrontofthehouse.Iwentinsideandwaitedforawhile,butIfeltabonecertaintythathewouldn'tbeback.Inaway,Ithought,itwasappropriate.Iwashedupthebreakfastdishes,lefthistwohundreddollarsondiekitchencounter,gotintothecar,anddrovesouthtowardhome.Thedaywascloudy.Ipassedthroughtownswithfamiliarnames,throughthepineforestsanddowntotheprairie,andthentoVietnam,whereIwasasoldier,andthenhomeagain.Isurvived,butit'snotahappyending.Iwasacoward.Iwenttothewar.Somethingmust'vesnapped.Oneafternoonhebeganfiringhistogonearhim.Jensenstanedtoreload,butthensuddenlyhesatdownandheldhisheadinhisarmsandwouldn'tmove.Fortwobetweenthem.ButinthemorningLeeStrunkcouldn'tstoplaughing.'TheDaveJensenandLeeStrunkdidnotbecomeinstantbuddies,buttheydidlearntotrusteachother.Overthenextmonththeyoftenteameduponambushes.Theycoveredeachotheronpatrol,sharedafoxhole,tookturnspullingguardatnight.InlateAugusttheymadeapactthatifoneofthemshouldevergettotallyfuckedup-awheelchairwound-theotherguywouldautomaticallyfindawaytoendit.AsfarasIcouldtelltheywereserious.Theydrewituponpaper,signingtheirnamesandaskingacoupleofguystoactaswitnesses.AndtheninOctoberLeeStrunksteppedonariggedmortarround.Ittookoffhisrightlegattheknee.Hemanagedafunnylittlehalfstep,likeahop,thenhetiltedsidewaysanddropped.'Oh,damn,'hesaid.Forawhilehekeptonsayingit,'Damnohdamn,'asifhe'dstubbedhistoe.Thenhepanicked.Hetriedtogetupandrun,buttherewasnothinglefttorunon.Hefellhard.Thestumpofhisrightlegwastwitching.Thereweresliversofbone,andthebloodcameinquickspurtslikewaterfromapump.Heseemedbewildered.Hereacheddownasiftomassageandadministeredmorphineandranplasmaintohim.Therewasnothingmuchanybodycoulddoexceptwaitforthedustoff.Afterwe'dsecuredanLZ,DaveJensenwentoverandkneeledatStrunk'sside.Thestumphadstoppedtwitchingnow.ForatimetherewassomequestionastowhetherStrunkwasstillalive,butthenheopenedhiseyesandlookedupatDaveJensen.'Oh,Jesus,'hesaid,andmoaned,andtriedtoslideawayandsaid,'Jesus,man,don'tkillme.''Relax,'Jensensaid.64THKTHINGSTHKYCARR1KDHOWTOTHtSISTRUE.anM-16.Atremendoushumanbeing,Ratsays.Prettynutsosometimes,butyoucouldtrusthimwithyourlife.Andthenthelettergetsverysadandserious.Ratpourshisheartout.Hesayshelovedtheguy.Hesaystheguywashisbestfriendintheworld.Theywerelikesoulmates,hesays,liketwinsorsomething,theyhadawholelotincommon.Hetellstheguy'ssisterhe'lllookherupwhenthewar'sover.Sowhathappens?Ratmailstheletter.Hewaitstwomonths.Thedumbcoozeneverwritesback.Atruewarstoryisnevermoral.Itdoesnotinstruct,norencouragevirtue,norsuggestmodelsofproperhumanbehavior,norrestrainmenfromdoingthethingsmenhavealwaysdone.Ifastoryseemsmoral,donotbelieveit.Ifattheendofawarstoryyoufeeluplifted,orifyoufeelthatsomesmallbitofrectitudehasbeensalvagedfromthelargerwaste,thenyouhavebeenmadethevictimofaveryoldandterriblelie.Thereisnorectitudewhatsoever.Thereisnovirtue.Asafirstruleofthumb,therefore,youcantellatruewarstorybyitsabsoluteanduncompromisingallegiancetoobscenityandevil.ListentoRatKiley.Cooze,hesays.Hedoesnotsaybitch.Hecertainlydoesnotsaywoman,orgirl.Hesayscooze.Thenhespitsandstares.He'snineteenyearsold-it'stoomuchforhim-sohelooksatyouwiththosebigsadgentlekillereyesandsayscooze,becausehisfriendisdead,andbecauseit'ssoincrediblysadandtrue:sheneverwroteback.Youcantellatruewarstoryifitembarrassesyou.Ifyoudon'tcareforobscenity,youdon'tcareforthetruth;ifyoudon'tcareforthetruth,watchhowyouvote.Sendguystowar,theycomehometalkingdirty.ListentoRat:'JesusChrist,man,Iwritethisbeautifulfuckin'letter,Islaveoverit,andwhathappens?Thedumbcoozeneverwritesback.'Thedeadguy'snamewasCurtLemon.Whathappenedwas,wecrossedamuddyriverandmarchedwestintothemountains,andonthethirddaywetookabreakalongatrailjunctionindeepHOWTOTELLATRUEWARSTORY6970THKTHINGSTHEYCARRIEDwhathappenedfromwhatseemedtohappen.Whatseemstoasitseemed.HOWTOTELLATRUEWARSTORY71HOWTOTKLLATRUKWARSTORY73juice.Theyblowawaytreesandgleeclubsandwhateverelsethereistoblowaway.Scorchtime.Theywalknapalmupanddowntheridges.TheybringintheCobrasandF-4S,theyuseWilliePeterandHEandincendiaries.It'sallfire.Theymakethosemountainsburn.'Arounddawnthingsfinallygetquiet.Likeyouneverevenbeardquietbefore.Oneofthoserealthick,realmistydays-justcloudsandfog,they'reoffinthisspecialzone-andthemountainsarcabsolutelydead-flatsilent.LikeBrigadoon-purevapor,youknow?Everything'sallsuckedupinsidethefog.Notasinglesound,excepttheystillbearit.'Sotheypackupandstarthumping.Theyheaddownthemountain,backtobasecamp,andwhentheygettheretheydon'tsaydiddly.Theydon'ttalk.Notaword,likethey'redeafanddumb.Lateronthisfatbirdcolonelcomesupandaskswhatthehellhappenedoutthere.What'dtheyhear?Whyalltheordnance?Theman'sraggedout,hegetsdowntightontheircase.Imean,theyspentsixtrilliondollarsonfirepower,anddiisfatasscolonelwantsanswers,hewantstoknowwhatthefuckin'story'Buttheguysdon'tsayzip.Theyjustlookathimforawhile,sortoffunnylike,sortofamazed,andthewholewarisrightthereinthatstare.Itsayseverythingyoucan'teversay.Itsays,man,yougotwaxinyourears.Itsays,poorbastard,you'llneverknow-wrongfrequency-youdon'tevenwanttohearthis.Thentheysalutethefuckerandwalkaway,becausecertainstoriesyoudon'tevertell.'Youcantellatruewarstorybythewayitneverseemstoend.Notthen,notever.NotwhenMitchellSandersstoodupandmovedoffintothedark.Itallhappened.Evennow,atthisinstant,Irememberthatyo-yo.Inaway,Isuppose,youhadtobethere,youhadtohearit,butIcouldtellhowdesperatelySanderswantedmetobelievehim,hisfrustrationatnotquitegettingthedetailsright,notquitepinningdownthefinalanddefinitivetruth.74I'HKTHINGS1HF.YCARRIKD'Iknowthat.''Forgetit.'HOWTOTKLLAIRUKWARSTORY■75Inatruewarstory,ifthere'samoralatall,it'slikethethreadthatmakesthecloth.Youcan'tteaseitout.Youcan'textractthemeaningwithoutunravelingthedeepermeaning.Andintheend,really,there'snothingmuchtosayaboutatruewarstory,exceptmaybe'Oh.'Truewarstoriesdonotgeneralize.Theydonotindulgeinabstractionoranalysis.Forexample:Warishell.Asamoraldeclarationtheoldtruismseemsperfectlytrue,andyetbecauseitabstracts,becauseitgeneralizes,Ican'tbelieveitwithmystomach.Nothingturnsinside.Itcomesdowntogutinstinct.Atruewarstory,iftrulytold,makesthestomachbelieve.Thisonedoesitforme.I'vetolditbefore-manytimes,manyversions-buthere'swhatactuallyhappened.Wecrossedthatriverandmarchedwestintothemountains.Onthethirdday,CurtLemonsteppedonabooby-trapped105round.HewasplayingcatchwithRatKiley,laughing,andthenhewasdead.Thetreeswerethick;ittooknearlyanhourtocutanLZforthedustoffLater,higherinthemountains,wecameacrossababyVCwaterbuffalo.WhatitwasdoingthereIdon'tknow-nofarmsorpaddies—butwechaseditdownandgotaropearounditandleditalongtoadesertedvillagewherewesetupforthenight.AftersupperRatKileywentoverandstrokeditsnose.HeopenedupacanofCrations,porkandbeans,butthebabybuffalowasn'tinterested.Ratshrugged.Hesteppedbackandshotitthroughtherightfrontknee.Theanimaldidnotmakeasound.Itwentdownhard,thengotupagain,andRattookcarefulaimandshotoffanear.Heshotitinthehindquartersandinthelittlehumpatitsback.Heshotittwiceintheflanks.Itwasn'ttokill;itwastohurt.Heputthemuzzleupagainstthemouthandshotthemouthaway.Nobodysaidmuch.Thewholeplatoonstoodtherewatching,feelingallkindsofthings,buttherewasn'tagreatdealofpityforthebabywaterbuffalo.CurtLemonwasdead.RatKileyhadlosthisbestfriendintheworld.76THKTHINGSIHKYCARRIKDLaterittheweekhewouldwritealongpersonallettertotheguy'ssister,whowouldnotwriteback,butfornowitwasaquestionofpain.Heshotoffthetail.Heshotawaychunksofmeatbelowtheribs.Allaroundustherewasthesmellofsmokeandfilthanddeepgreeneiy,andtheeveningwashumidandveryhot.Ratwenttoautomatic.Heshotrandomly,almostcasually,quicklittlespurtsinthebellyandbutt.Thenhereloaded,squatteddown,andshotitintheleftfrontknee.Againtheanimalfellhardandtriedtogetup,butthistimeitcouldn'tquitemakeit.Itwobbledandwentdownsideways.Ratshotitinthenose.Hebentforwardandwhisperedsomething,asiftalkingtoapet,thenheshotitinthethroat.Allthewhilethebabybuffalowassilent,oralmostsilent,justalightbubblingsoundwherethenosehadbeen.Itlayverystill.Nothingmovedexcepttheeyes,whichwereenormous,thepupilsshinyblackanddumb.RatKileywascrying.Hetriedtosaysomething,butthencradledhisrifleandwentoffbyhimself.Therestofusstoodinaraggedcirclearoundthebabybuffalo.Foratimenoonespoke.Wehadwitnessedsomethingessential,somethingbrand-newandprofound,apieceoftheworldsostartlingtherewasnotyetanameforit.Somebodykickedthebabybuffalo.Itwasstillalive,thoughjustbarely,justintheeyes.likeit.''Ne\er?''Nothardly.Notonce.'KiovaandMitchellSanderspickedupthebabybuffalo.The