30 June 1998-0600 Ka'u, Hawaii.


The bedside alarm went off like a Tsunami Warning. Damn!
I swung out of bed; my guts were doing an 'E' ride at Disneyland. This was the day. After more than thirty years of self-imposed isolation I was about to catch a United flight from Keahole airport in Kona, Hawaii and fly to Washington, D.C. My bags were already packed as I staggered to the kitchen to fire up the coffee, ugly thoughts of 'Chicken Kiev' intrusively invaded what remained of my sleep. Airline food...swell! The sun was just popping over the Volcano. The morning light penetrated the O'hia forest illuminating the bright red Lehua blossoms on the tree's and the morning mist lay thick enshrouding the landscape.

A shiver ran down my spine. It was if you could walk into the mist, disappearing like a time traveler. Where would the mist take you. The future did not exist. Today was racing towards me at 1,000 miles per hour. There would only be the past. A past I had tried without success to forget. Time. A man made concept was playing hard-ball catchup today. Spencer, I thought, ‘what the hell have you gotten me into’? "Hey! the trip will do you good," he said. "You can run with the gunfighters again, and the 'Wall', it will be a healing process." Yeah right! I poured a cup of steaming coffee, my gaze fixated on the mist. I thought of Huggo's my favorite watering hole in Kona town. On the center bar post was a bronze plate. It read: 'Free beer tomorrow!' So much for the future.

1 July 1998-0550 Dulles International Airport

The thud and bump of the Boeing 767 as it landed startled me and chased away the fatigue of a 14 hour flight as the engines reversed thrust, and the speed brakes engaged. "Doc!" "Yeah?" I turned. There was no one sitting next to me, or even across from me. The flight crew were firmly strapped into their pull down seats in shoulder harnesses. Why is that? Passengers don't rate a shoulder harness. Just a seat belt. Doesn't make much difference in the end if you auger in at over 400 knots. I miss trains. Here we are careening though space five miles above the Earth’s surface while stewardesses pass out Marriot’s version of the ‘Last Supper’ and call it ‘Your in-flight dinner’. Meanwhile a few hours earlier two Boeing mechanics were tweaking the aircraft for pre-flight. One says to the other, “Well, what do you think?” His accomplice replies, “Yeah! I think it’ll get off the ground!” I was trying to amuse myself. A failed attempt to forget the voice that had called out to me moments before. Fucking voices! They never shut up. The past follows me wherever I go. I suddenly realized I could not escape my past, even at speeds approaching Mach 1!

Dennis Higgins a veteran Marine had driven in from Racine and was there to greet me as I stepped into the terminal. I spotted him immediately. Age had taken it's toll on him as it had done to me as well, but his eyes, our eyes, had not changed. They would never change. Eyes that had witnessed the crucible and carnage of war would never change. Eyes that held a thousand yard stare in a ten foot room. Eyes that were witness to slaughter. A look that frightened people causing them to abruptly turn and take another direction. It was not hard to spot a Marine warrior in the crowd.

We loaded up his Grand Cherokee and headed for the Crowne Plaza Hotel. In exactly 27 minutesthe 'Past' would have my ass. Dennis already had a room, I was doubling with Spencer. Served him right. This was his idea. I checked in at the desk, then a bellhop with a cart stacked my gear as he and I, and the gear stepped into the elevator. Just as the elevator doors were almost shut, the 'Past' jumped in and pressed the button for the fourth floor.

"Doc!" the voice shouted. I looked at the bellhop. "What?" I responded with a look of surprise. He looked at me. "Sir?" His expression began to form a pattern of confusion as it etched it's way across his face. "You said 'Doc', how'd you know?" I asked, stunned by his psychic ability. "Sir? I didn't say nuth'in sir." he said defensively. His eyes screamed. 'I have to get out of here...right now!

The elevator stopped; doors opened and he pushed the cart quickly down the hall, turned right and disappeared. By the time I caught up with him he had the cart empty and asked me for my magnetic coded door lock card. I handed it over...he shoved it in, opened the door, carried in the gear, pointed to the bathroom, telephone, air conditioning, coffee maker, closet, blinds then without waiting for a tip, headed for the door..."have a nice visit sir. Welcome to Washington." I looked down the hall. He was gone.

I flopped my suitcase on the bed and opened the luggage. I rummaged through the piles of clothing looking for a small velvet maroon colored bag. There it was. I gently opened it. All was well. It had survived the long trip from Hawaii. My past was intact. I awakened it from it's 32 year nap and laid the four tier ribbon bar on the dresser. Washington, D.C., in the first week of July was in the middle of a heat wave. It was suffocating. The humidity was palpable, the heat radiated off the concrete, the water tasted like Clorox. It was Vietnam with a really bad traffic problem. I turned up the A/C to max out the room and headed for the shower. A cold water shower. It was great. The shower tasted like Clorox. Chlorine must be a hot item in the District of Confusion. I put on a fresh 'aloha' shirt and shorts, decksiders (no socks) grabbed by walking cane and let my innate olfactory senses lead me to the Hotel bar.

When the elevator stopped and opened I was surprised to see the lobby filled with a crowd of people and luggage. English disappeared in the sea of languages that chattered throughout the lobby. The international flair of the crowd put me at ease, reminding me of Hawaii where all cultures and nationalities and races come together in harmony. I spotted the bar and began shouldering my way through the crowd. The bar was filled. I stood there listening to the shouts and yells and laughter. Time slipped away...I entered the bar, I was 50 years old...by the time I was able to commandeer a barstool, surrounded by veteran Marines I felt as though I were 19 again. It was great!!! God! I felt so alive.

The bartender was suddenly in front of me. "May I offer you something to drink Sir?" He took me by surprise. 'Sir' was not in my lexicon of salutations. I automatically, without thinking, looked behind me to see whom the bartender was addressing. There was no one immediately behind me...just the clamor of the crowd in the lobby. I turned and looked at his face filled with expectation. My 'Past' ordered a Budweiser, "Ice cold! Colder than my second wife!" The bartender laughed and said, " Here you go Sir!" "Mahalo Nui!", my 'Past replied. I reached for my wallet and took out a ten spot and laid it on the bar. The bartender asked, "Is it cold enough for you?" I said, "Close but not quite...do you have a freezer?" He grabbed my ten and walked off laughing.

The first beer went down like water. Despite the A/C in the hotel the heat and humidity of Washington was not comfortable to me. I was used to the trade winds of the Hawaiian Islands. Artificial atmosphere isn’t allit’s cracked up to be. There was no substitute for real oxygen. Behind me in the lobby hung a large banner: 'Welcome! Khe-Sanh Veterans!' Another veteran Marine walked in and sat on the stool to my right and shouted out his drink order over the decibel level of the crowd. My 'Past' moved from the vacant stool to accommodate him.

He introduced himself and said he was with 'recon' at Khe-Sanh. I told him I was never near Khe-Sanh, rather I was in and out of country before that party began. I second guessed his next question and told him I was an FMF 'doc' with 1/5 and H&S III M.A.F. in '66 & '67 in Quang Ngai. I second guessed his third question and told him I was here because of Captain Spencer, Delta 1/26.

Before I was halfway through my second brewski, 'recon' ordered another one for me. My 'Past' did not object. I scanned the crowd. Never have I seen so few drink so much so fast in such a short period of time. I knew that I was surrounded by my Marines...the gunfighters. I was in hog heaven. The hotel staff on the other hand seemed to be on the verge of hysteria. They were out manned, out gunned and way over their heads with this crowd. This was better than a frat party. I wanted to shout 'FOOD FIGHT!'

'Doc!' a voice shouted. I ignored my 'Past'. The little s.o.b. never shut up. 'Doc! Hey...Doc, dammit I'm talk'n to you!" Ooops! My past had taken a nap and I was blindsided by the present. I turned. There stood the biggest damn Marine I had ever seen. Way over the height limit for the 'Corps'. Then again, you have to remember back then he was a kid, and a male does not stop growing until he's 28 years old or so. This guy went the distance! He picked me and my past up like a couple of five year old's and hugged the shit out of us. He dropped us on the barstool as suddenly as he picked us up, and his face radiated a smile that was from the heart. As only a Marine could emulate. After all, 'Doc's were their pets. "Were ya from Doc?", he asked. Someone said, "Hawaii". "No shit Doc! That mus' be damn nice, beats the shit outta 'Philly'!" "That's affirmative!", I responded...."but ya gotta live somewhere...right?" He just grinned.

I have no idea who said 'Hawaii'. Maybe it was me, or my 'Past' or 'recon' on my right. I turned, there was Spencer. He had checked in invisible in the crowd that filled the lobby and had gone to our room and changed and was in the bar wearing my 'Red, aloha, 'flowers and parrots' Tom Selleck, Magnum P.I. shirt with shorts and sneakers. He spotted me and gave me a Marine style hug. I said, "Ernesto...you took me by surprise...you look just like Tom Selleck. I swear! I can't tell the difference." I got a Quantico induced U.S.M.C. officer's frown in response. My 'Past' started laughing.

"Fucking Doc's are all the same," he growled. His fake anger only fueled my laughter and the sheer joy of being back with the 'Corps'...'The Proud, The Few, the Marines!' It made up for the past 32 years of misery. Everything that was me was firing in perfect synaptic order like an in-line six, I was on the fast track to Nirvana or Hell. At the time I could have cared less. Spencer ordered a bud-lite or Coors I can't remember. I looked at him. He returned my stare and it screamed 'fuck you doc!' I started laughing again. 'Recon' looked at me, and I said, "Officers?" he shrugged in acknowledgement. Party time! I had once asked Ernie if Quantico had ever given him a Marine Corps officer's saber. He evaded the question. The sabers are custom made to meet the man. I assumed they did not give Ernesto a sword being half Korean, it was quite simply too close to the 'Code of Bushido'. I loved to rag on him. He is my good friend. I used to kid him as to how he got to be a Marine officer in combat with a degree in 'Philosophy'. It would always light his fuze. I crack myself up. It made no difference in the end what your background was...you were a target; cannon fodder.

I met Air Force pilots, Aussie's, two Scotsmen, doggie's, but mostly Marines crowding the bar. I met four FMF 'Doc's. My 'Past' was curious, and examined them closely. We wondered how they differed from us. They were attached to large Marine Combat units up North, while I was operating more or less independently almost two years earlier down South in Quang Ngai Province. I spotted several Marines with life-long debilitating injuries from the war. I looked to my 'Past' his eyes welled with the tears of regret, compassion, anger, frustration and guilt. We ordered another beer.

2 July 1998-0500 Crowne Plaza Hotel, Washington, D.C.

The beer fest had lasted all night long. After the bar closed, Marines spread out, many downstairs to the large hospitality suite that held more booze than the bar upstairs, others went to their rooms and opened up their private stock and held mini-reunions. My 'Past' said "Doc it's time. Let's go!" My legs felt like rubber as I stepped out of the front entrance to the hotel. I had sheathed my walking stick in it's silk cover and began the six block walk to the 'Wall'. The traffic was light at this hour. The pimps and hookers were still out trolling for last minute victims before the sun came up. Then they were compelled to hide from the light like vampires.

I found the grassy green park and began following the red picket searching for a way inside. Finally I came upon an entrance to the park. My 'Past' spotted the well worn trail and followed it. Large Oaks dotted the landscape. We stayed on the trail moving deeper into the park. My peripheral vision spotted a shadowy figure dart behind a tree. I slipped the knot on the silk sheath and continued. "Doc. Over here!" "Shut up!" I muttered quietly to my 'Past', before realizing he had not uttered a sound. "Doc! Stay on the trail." Ah fuck! I was really losing it. The grass was wet with night dew, small wisps of mist floated through the giant Oaks. The trail stopped abruptly. I turned and there it was. A long black granite Wall. As I followed the walk in front of the Wall it became higher, and I could look over the wall and beyond under the early morning mist. Something moved. "Over here Doc!" My 'Past' was scared shitless and mute. I could see our reflection in the mirrored Wall. Was that me? "Morning Doc," someone said. I turned. I was alone with my 'Past'.

The names etched into the granite seemed endless. "Hey Ferrell. I have someone coming down to watch the desk, let's raid the galley!" My 'Past' whispered, "Larry?" I stopped and faced the Wall. "Larry where are you?" I mentally asked. My 'Past' remembered the midnight raid on the galley at NAS Pensacola Naval Hospital. My eyes followed the names down the Panel. There he was. Lawrence Terrell Steiner, Panel 09E- Line 125. I knelt using my walking stick as a crutch for balance and forced my left hand to lightly trace the surface of the etching. My 'Past' intrusively remarked, "Hey Larry look at me, been a long time huh?" The cold black slab was mute. "Later today I'm bringing a buddy of mine for you to meet. Watch over him 'Doc' Okay? His name is Mike. He was a damn good Marine."

I stood, I could not see the Wall clearly, even as dawn approached, my eyes were filled with tears. I turned and started back toward the end of Wall, were I had left the trail. My 'Past' whispered, "Larry I saw your pink slip at Chu-Lai. I've always known where you were." I reached the trail and started for the park entrance. Some one said, "Later 'Doc'!" My 'Past' did not respond, he was in a hurry to get back to the hotel, and had a ten yard head start on me. I wondered if he bore witness to the non-existent theory we describe as the future. By the time I caught up with my 'Past', the present found us entering the lobby of the hotel.

2 July 1998-1800 'The Vietnam Memorial Wall'

The Khe-Sanh Marines arrived at the 'Wall' that evening. Long lines of Marines and visitors crowded the path before the 'Wall' searching for memories. My 'Past' had no need to search for remembrance. We had carried it with us securely locked for eternity within a private recess in my mind. My 'Past' held the key and was the gatekeeper to my cerebral dominance. He had effectively for the past 32 years compartmentalized my anxiety, aggression, rage, pleasure, sexuality, phobias, obsessions, compulsions and stress.

I shouldered and made my way through the crowds working my way to Panel 09E- Line 125. My 'Past' had locked up the endorphins and decided to set 'Panic' free. I had Mike Mahoney's framed Eulogy with me. I knelt and propped the frame against the 'Wall', carefully aligning it's left border to Larry's name. My hand trembled as I removed my 'Corpsman' insignia from my lapel and tried to place it carefully upon the frame. I dropped it twice. My 'Past' whispered, "you can do it...try it again." 'Panic' was busy discovering and pushing all my stress triggers. My 'Past' decided to open the floodgates and filled my eyes with tears as I finally placed the pin on top of the frame.

I was exhausted. A failed exorcise in self-control. I stood and backed away. My 'Past' was busy introducing Mike to Larry. I felt as though I were eavesdropping on a private conversation. I thought 'Panic' had flipped the switch on my auditory nerve. The silence was deafening. I looked to the crowds and realized there was nothing wrong with my hearing. No one was speaking. The scream of silence emanated from the 'Wall'. Someone said, "You did your best 'doc'" I turned. There was a woman standing behind me. I said, "My best was not good enough." She said, "Pardon me. Are you speaking to me?" I was losing it. I was on a fast track to a room with neoprene wallpaper. My 'Past' said, "Later Mike. See ya Larry. Aloha Nui Loa." Someone said, "Semper Fi! 'doc'" The woman behind me offered me a handful of Kleenex. She did not have enough. I mumbled my thanks, and started for the end of the 'Wall', not bothering to wait for my 'Past'. He would find me soon enough.

The sweltering heat of the city did not seem to be present at the 'Wall'. I felt a chill in the air while those around me soaked with perspiration. I was on the edge of eternity, and the 'Wall' was the black abyss, a doorway to something mortals could only explore with their final breath. My 'Past' stepped out of the 'Wall' and found me frozen before the Vietnam Memorial Statues of three men in combat gear. They looked so real. The veins in the statue's arms stood out in perfect detail. I watched closely, looking for signs of pulsation. My 'Past' castigated me for my foolishness. We left the hollowed ground and returned to the hotel. I went to the bar and ordered a beer. My 'Past' informed me that my rendezvous with eternity would come in due time.

3 July 1998-0900 "Arlington National Cemetery"

Buses filled with Khe-Sanh veterans passed through the gates of Arlington. I watched as the winding narrow road lead us through rolling acres upon acres of tombstones. Monuments to people who had given their lives for their country. The countless thousands of markers seemed to go without end. We got off the buses and walked towards the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. My 'Past' and I were overwhelmed by the expanse of the cemetery. This was where eternity warehoused the millions of souls who had paid the ultimate sacrifice. It struck me that while this place was vast, it was not the only national cemetery. I thought of 'Punchbowl' National Cemetery in the crater of a dormant volcano on the island of O'ahu in the middle of Honolulu.

I tried to focus my attention on a formal Marine Corps ceremony. The mother of a Khe-Sanh Marine who died 30 years ago was being presented his Bronze Star for valor posthumously. My 'Past' kept turning my head away from the ceremony as we stared in awe at the rolling hills covered with thousands of grave markers. I forced myself to pay attention to the ceremony. The color guard, all Marines, so young and magnificent in their full dress blues, stood at attention like statues. For them, eternity might have to wait, then again, it could be upon them with the next conflict and that time could be measured in hours or just a few days or weeks. We all have a prearranged boarding pass for eternity.

It was time to return to the buses for the trip back to the hotel. My 'Past' decided to remain and contemplate the warehouse of souls that was Arlington. He would meet me later at the hotel bar and give me his thoughts. After the bar had closed and the booze downstairs in the
hospitality suite was exhausted, I decided to return to my room. I grabbed a quick shower and packed my gear, making sure my bamboo walking stick was securely stored in it's custom made traveling box. Everything was ready to go. All I had to do was grab a couple of hours sleep. It did not come.

I lay there on the bed. My mind was racing with the events of the last couple of days. Washington was a monument to the dead. My 'Past' asked, "What did you expect?" I couldn't answer that. All I could think of was that I had to get out of here. The distance from Washington to my island home in Hawaii was far. I dreaded the 14 hour return flight. I closed my eyes. The comatose sleep that slammed the door on my 'Past' and barred the memories never came. The 'Past' entered without knocking. "Hey 'Doc'! Have you figured it out yet?" He inquired. I was too tired to answer. Too tired for guessing games. Then the shocking answer to his question hit me like a sucker punch. I realized my 'Past' born under fire in the bloody chaos of combat in Vietnam 32 years ago was closer to my island home than the Washington monuments to death! My 'Past' had followed me to Washington to embrace eternity and discuss my fate.

6 July 1998-0550 Ka'u Hawaii

I normally awaken early. Today was no different. The day before, my 'Past' and I had boarded a Jet and chased the sun west to Hawaii. I did not have to suffer the hangover of 'jet-lag'. I put on the coffee, then went to my home office and booted the computer. By the time I was up and ready to go the coffee could be heard gasping it's last effort to percolate one more time. The coffee was done. I poured a cup and looked out the kitchen window. The sun was popping over the volcano, but dark clouds on the southern tip of the island told me it would be an overcast morning. The ground mist that enshrouded the landscape within the O'hia forest was darker, thicker more forbidding. I picked up my cup and walked outside and stood there for a moment. The mist was a dark gray wall. It stopped at the very edge of the forest on my property line, as though it was not permitted to cross the boundary.

I sat my cup on the lanai railing and walked to the edge of the property. I stood before the gray wall of mist. My 'Past' urged me to step into the mist. It said, "Go on! See what's there, catch a glimpse of eternity. What are you waiting for?" I knew it was only water vapor. My 'Past' told me that fact was irrelevant. I said, "There is nothing there but O'hia trees and bush grass." My 'Past' said, "Forget logic...take a chance!" I told my 'Past', "Your making me crazy. Shut the fuck up!" He laughed.

What the hell! I walked up to the gray wall of vapor and stepped inside. I turned and could barely make out the house 75 yards away. I stepped deeper into the mist. My 'Past' said, "Can you see them?" See who, I thought. He replied, "The warriors." I thought...this is nuts. I don't see anything. Something rustled in the grass. I startled and looked to my right, something moved. Probably a Mongoose I thought. My 'Past' chuckled at my assumption.

A chill ran up my spine. Whatever had moved was no Mongoose, nor even a pig or dog...something larger. I could hear the bipedal footstep; the cadence of a human moving through the grass. He could not have been more than 20 yards away. I shouted, "Hey! Who are you...come over here!" There was no answer to my call. I looked up and the morning sun was burning a hole through the overcast like a laser. The light of day penetrated the mist and it's heat began to vaporize the gray shroud. I stood still and watched it's ethereal departure. It was there and it was gone. Suddenly it was a brilliant sunny morning, the mist had disappeared replaced by the light of a full sun. I was standing in the bush and could clearly see my house. I turned and surveyed the area. Nothing but trees and bush grass.

I stepped across the boundary to my land and started back to the house, wondering where I left my coffee. My 'Past' said, "Did you see them?" No! I thought. I didn't see a damn thing. Shut up! My 'Past' started laughing. "Eternity just touched you and you don't believe your own senses," he said. I found my coffee and took a sip staring at the forest. My 'Past' said, "Don't worry 'Doc', you don't have to believe in eternity until you die, then we'll talk."

- End -
Semper Fidelis

LAWRENCE TERRELL STEINER

"Dedicated to the United States Marine Corps MSG program, and those men of valor who gave their all in Africa - August 1998"