Waiting: One Wife's Year of the Vietnam War

Chapter 27

{Chapter 27} When I saw Lee’s lopsided grin, I smiled and waved, wondering how I could have imagined that I wouldn’t know that face anywhere under any circumstance. Lee kissed me and then took me in his arms and held me while the tears rolled down my cheeks as I said, “I knew you’d be the last one off the damn bus.” He held me at arm’s length and said, “You sure look pregnant.” We laughed and held each other again. Before we could finish our greetings, we were ushered through the doors of a nearby building. My mind scrambled as I sought to absorb reality. Lee was actually here, actually beside me as we sat holding hands through yet another briefing. In an auditorium filled with reunited couples , I couldn’t believe anyone was paying attention to what the uniforms on the platform were saying. For me, only two messages penetrated. The first was the warning that the men were to carry at all times during their stay in Hawaii the small yellow card being distributed. The speaker said that in the event of illness or accident, it was imperative that medical personnel had access to the card. When Lee received his, I read that the bearer of the card was on R&R from Vietnam and had been exposed to malaria, yellow fever, typhus, smallpox, plague, and every other disease known to science. I gulped. The second message was the ugly reminder that R&R would not last forever. Lee was free until seven o’clock on the morning of the nineteenth , at which time he was to report to the airport for his return flight. I felt panic. We had six months of catching up to do as well as getting a head start on the next half-year, and we had only five days and seventeen [186] chapter 27 hours. But then, I reminded myself, that was more than I ever expected to have with Lee again. We could surely make the best of it. We hailed a cab and got in. Suddenly we were alone. With so many questions and so much to say, I didn’t know where to begin, and Lee seemed to be groping, too, as we traded small talk about the distance to the hotel and my arrival the day before. It didn’t matter what he said, though, because all I wanted to do was look at him and convince myself that his hand was really touching mine. While my eyes were riveted on Lee, his darted about, taking in the towering palms, the postcard beach, and high-rise buildings. He continued to keep his focus on the roadway even after we left the scenic section, and my heart skipped a beat. He was avoiding looking at me. I watched him closely to interpret his signals. He seemed to be searching. “Is anything wrong?” I asked, thinking that if he was looking for a way out, we might as well get it over with now. “No, no,” he said without taking his eyes off the street, “this is great.” “What are you looking for?” “Ambushes,” he whispered and then caught himself with a laugh. With a sheepish grin, he said, “Habit. I forgot where I was.” He visibly relaxed and turned his attention to me. Seeing him full-face, I studied the changes. His close-clipped hair was sun-bleached and his skin golden brown except for a healing sore on his left cheek. “Jungle rot,” he explained, touching it self-consciously. When we entered the hotel room, another uncomfortable silence descended upon us as if we were total strangers. Lee was obviously still himself, yet he wasn’t the same man I had put on the Greyhound all those months ago. And I, well . . . I knew I had changed, too. Figuring out how those individual differences were to affect our relationship left us both tentative and nervous. So we busied ourselves in touring the suite as if eachfeaturewassurprisinglyuniqueandwhollysignificant.WhenIfound myself showing Lee that the small refrigerator even had a drawer, I knew we had crossed into the absurd. Yet the disconcerting feeling remained. Lee must have felt the tension, too, because he suddenly said with too much nonchalance, “Oh, I have a message for you.” October 1969 [187] “A message for me? From who?” I asked suspiciously. “From the battalion commander,” Lee answered without looking at me...