Time to Hunt Part 6

"I'm sorry I wasn't making much sense last night. I couldn't put it together fast enough. You know how slow I am."

"Donny. I called the barracks."

"Sometimes those messages get through, sometimes they don't. I was just all out of joint yesterday."

"What's going on?"

"Ah, it's too complicated to explain. It's nothing I can't handle. How are you? G.o.d, sweetie, it's so good to see you."

"Oh, I'm fine. This camping stuff I could do without. I need a shower. Where's the nearest Holiday Inn?"

"When this is all over, don't go back," he suddenly blurted, as if finally seeing a path that made some sense. "Stay here with me. We'll get married!"

"Donny! What about the big church wedding? What about all my mother's friends? What about the country club?"

"I-" and then he saw she was joking, and she saw he was not.

"I want us to get married," he said. "Right now."

"Donny, I want to marry you so much I think I'll die from it."

"We'll do it after this weekend thing."

"Yes. I'll marry you as soon as it's over. I'll move into an apartment. I'll find work. I'll-"

"No, then I want you to go home and finish your degree. I'll go for the early out and I'll move back home. There'll be G.I. Bill money. I can work part-time. We'll get some kind of married-student housing. It'll be great fun! And you can tell your mother we'll have all the parties then, so we'll keep her happy too."

"What brought this on?"

"Nothing. I just realized how important you are to me. I didn't want this getting away from me. I was an a.s.shole last night. I wanted to put us back together as the first priority. When I get out, I'll even help you in this peace stuff. We'll stop the war. You and me. It'll be great."

They walked a bit, amid kids their own ages, but stoned and wild, just celebrating the youthfulness of their lives in a great merry adventure in Washington, DC, stopping the war and getting stoned and laid in the same impulse. Donny felt isolated from it terribly: he wasn't a part of it. And he didn't feel as if he were a part of the Marine Corps anymore.

"Okay," he finally said, "I ought to be getting back. We may be on alert. If not, can I come by tomorrow?"

"I'll try and break off tomorrow if nothing's happening here. We don't even know ourselves what's going on. They say we're going to march to the Pentagon over the weekend. More theater."

"Please be careful."

"I will."

"I'll figure out what we have to do to get married legally. It might be better to hide it from the Corps. They're all a.s.sholes. Then after it's done, the paperwork will catch up to us."

"Donny, I love you. Ever since that date when you were with Peggy Martin and I realized I hated hated her for being with you. Ever since then." her for being with you. Ever since then."

"We will have a wonderful life. I promise."

Then he saw someone approaching him swiftly. It was Trig, with Peter Farris and several other acolytes following in his wake.

"Hey," he called, "it just came over the radio. The Military District of Washington has just declared a full alert and all personnel are supposed to report to their duty stations."

"Oh, s.h.i.t," said Donny.

"It's beginning," said Julie.

CHAPTER F FIVE.

A flare floated in the night. Lights throbbed and swept. The gas was not so bad now, and the mood was generous, even adventurous. It had the air of a huge camp-out, a jamboree of some sort. Who was in charge? n.o.body. Who made these decisions? n.o.body. The thing just happened, almost miraculously, by the sheer osmosis of the May Tribe. flare floated in the night. Lights throbbed and swept. The gas was not so bad now, and the mood was generous, even adventurous. It had the air of a huge camp-out, a jamboree of some sort. Who was in charge? n.o.body. Who made these decisions? n.o.body. The thing just happened, almost miraculously, by the sheer osmosis of the May Tribe.

At the Pentagon almost nothing had happened. It was all theater. By the time Julie and Peter and their knot of Arizona crusaders actually got onto government property, the word had come back that the Army and the police weren't arresting anybody and they could stand on the gra.s.s in front of the huge ministry of war forever and nothing would happen. It was determined by someone that the Pentagon itself wasn't a choke point, and it made more sense, therefore, to occupy the bridges before the morning rush hour and in that way close down the city and the government. Others would besiege the Justice Department, another favorite target of opportunity.

So now they marched along, past the big Marriott Hotel on the right, toward the Fourteenth Street Bridge just ahead. Julie had never seen anything like this: it was a movie, a battle of joy, a stage show, every pep rally and football game she had ever been to. Excitement thrummed in the moist air; overhead, police and Army helicopters buzzed.

"G.o.d, have you ever seen anything anything like this?" she said to Peter. like this?" she said to Peter.

He replied, "You can't marry him."

"Oh, Peter."

"You can't. You just can't."

"I'm going to marry him next week."

"You probably won't be out of jail next week."

"Then I'll marry him the week after."

"They won't let him."

"We'll do it secretly."

"There's too much important work to be done."

They pa.s.sed the Marriott, maybe fifty abreast and a half-mile long, a ma.s.s of kids. Who led them? A small knot at the front with bullhorns of the People's Coalition for Peace and Justice; but more realistically, their own instincts led them. The professional organizers merely harnessed and marginally directed the generational energy. Meanwhile, the smell of gra.s.s rose in the air, and the sound of laughter; now and then a news helicopter would float down from the sky, hover and plaster them with bright light. They'd wave and dance and chant.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOURWE DON'T WANT YOUR f.u.c.kING WARorHO, HO, HO CHI MINHN-L-F IS GONNA WINorEND THE WAR NOWEND THE WAR NOW.

That's when the first tear gas. .h.i.t.

It was acrid and biting and its overwhelming power to disorient could not be denied. Julie felt her eyes knit in pain, and the world suddenly began to whirl about. The air itself became the enemy. Screams rose, and the sound of panic and confusion spread. Julie dropped to her knees, coughing hard. Nothing existed for a second but the pain searing her lungs and the immense crushing power of the gas.

But she stayed there with a few others, though Peter had disappeared somehow. The evil stuff curled around them, their eyes now gushing tears. But she thought: I will not move. They cannot make me move.

Suddenly someone arrived with a bucket full of white washcloths soaked in water.

"Breathe through this," he screamed, an old vet of this drill, "and it won't be so hard. If we don't break, they'll fall back. Come on, be strong, keep the faith."

Some kids fell back, but most just stood there, trying to deal with it. Someone-no one could ever say who or why-took a step forward, then another one, and in a second or so those that remained had joined. The ma.s.s moved forward, not on the a.s.sault and certainly not to charge, but just out of the conviction that as young people nothing could deter them because they were so powerful.

As Julie moved she saw ahead a barricade of DC police cars, their lights flashing, and behind them Army soldiers, presumably a contingent of the 7,500 National Guardsmen called up to much hoo-hah in the newspapers. They had an insect look, their eyes giant, their snouts long and descending, like powerful mandibles, their flesh black. The masks, she realized. They were wearing gas masks, all of them. This infuriated her.

"You are warned to disperse!" came an amplified voice. "You are hereby warned to disperse. We will arrest those who do not disperse. You do not have a parade permit."

"Oh, like that's that's really crucial," said someone with a laugh. "s.h.i.t, if I'd realized really crucial," said someone with a laugh. "s.h.i.t, if I'd realized that that I never would have come!" I never would have come!"

A helicopter floated overhead. To the right, over the Potomac, the sun began to rise. It was about six, Julie saw, looking at her watch.

"Keep moving!" came a cry. "One, two, three, four, we don't want your f.u.c.king war!"

Julie hated to curse; she hated it when Donny cursed, but standing there in the astringent aftermath of the gas, her eyes bawling, her heart knotted in anger, she picked it up and was not alone.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOURWE DON'T WANT YOUR f.u.c.kING WAR It was like an anthem, a battle cry. The kids that were left took their strength from it and began to move more quickly. They came together in the strobing lights of the police cars and the running lights of the circling copters. Those who'd fled regained their heroism, stopped and, moved by the strength of the few who remained, turned and themselves began to march.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

More CS gas canisters came at them from the barricade, evil little grenades spurting viscous clouds of the stuff as they bounced. But the kids now knew it wouldn't kill them and that the wind would come to thin it out and take its sting away.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOURWE DON'T WANT YOUR f.u.c.kING WAR Julie screamed with all her strength. She cried for pale, poor Donny in his hospital bed, a sack of plasma over him, his face drawn, his eyes vacant because of the death that had pa.s.sed through him. She screamed for the other boys in that awful place, without legs or hopes, faces gone, feet gone, p.e.n.i.ses gone; she cried for the girls she knew would be bitter forever because their fiances or brothers or husbands had come home in plastic bags dumped in wooden boxes; she cried for her father who preached of "duty" but himself had sold insurance through World War II; she cried for all the beaten kids in all the demonstrations in the past seven years; she cried for the little girl running from the napalm cloud, naked and afraid; she cried for the little man with his hands tied behind him who was shot in the head and fell to the ground, squirting blood.

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOURWE DON'T WANT YOUR f.u.c.kING WAR They were all moving forward now, hundreds, thousands. They were at the police cars, they were beyond the police cars, the police were fleeing, the National Guard was fleeing.

"Hold it! Hold it, G.o.ddammit!" someone was shouting as the melee halted. Before them was clear bridge, all the way to the Jefferson Memorial. In the rising light, the Capitol stood before them, and over some trees the spire of the Washington Monument and off to the right the Alphaville Blocks of the new HEW complex. But there were no cars anywhere, and no cops. someone was shouting as the melee halted. Before them was clear bridge, all the way to the Jefferson Memorial. In the rising light, the Capitol stood before them, and over some trees the spire of the Washington Monument and off to the right the Alphaville Blocks of the new HEW complex. But there were no cars anywhere, and no cops.

"We did it," somebody said. "We did it!" "We did it!"

Yes, they had. They had taken the bridge, won a great victory. They had driven the state away. They had claimed the Fourteenth Street Bridge for the Coalition for Peace and Justice.

They had won.

"We did it," someone was saying next to her; it was Peter.

"NCOs and squad leaders up front ASAP. NCOs and squad leaders up front ASAP!"

The men milled loosely on the broad esplanade of closed-down Route 95 about a half mile on the DC side of the Fourteenth Street Bridge, behind a barricade of jeeps, police cars, deuce-and-a-halfs. Jefferson watched in marble splendor from the portside, amid a canopy of dogwoods and from behind a cage of marble columns. A pale lemon sky oversaw the scene, and helicopters fluttered through it, making far more noise than their importance seemed to warrant. It looked like a fifties movie, the one where the monster has attacked the city and the police and military set up barricades to impede its progress while in some lab, white-coated men labor to invent a secret weapon to bring it down.

"Napalm," said Crowe helpfully. "I'd use napalm. Kill about two thousand kids. Roast 'em nice and tasty-chewie. Make Kent State look like a picnic. Boy, the war'd be over tomorrow." tomorrow."

"Don't think the lifers haven't thought of it," said Donny, as he left to head for the command conference.

He slipped away from Third Squad, slid through other squads and platoons of young men festooned comically for war, exactly as he was, who seemed to feel equally foolish with the huge pots banging on their heads. That was the odd thing about a helmet: when it's not necessary, it feels completely ludicrous; when it is necessary, it feels like a gift from G.o.d. This was one of the former occasions.

Donny reached the informal conclave where the barracks commander stood with three men in jumpsuits that said JUSTICE DEPT JUSTICE DEPT on the back, some other officials, cops, firemen and some confused DC Guard officers, of whom it was said their panic had led to the rout on the bridge. on the back, some other officials, cops, firemen and some confused DC Guard officers, of whom it was said their panic had led to the rout on the bridge.

"All right, all right, people," the colonel said. "Sergeant Major, all of 'em here?"

The sergeant major made a quick head count of his NCOs and from each man received a nod to signify that the men under him had arrived; it was done professionally in about thirty seconds.

"All present, sir."

"Good," said the colonel, climbing into a jeep to give him elevation over his subordinates, and speaking in the loud, clear voice of command.

"All right, men. As you know, at 0400 hours a large ma.s.s of demonstrators commandeered the right-hand span of the Fourteenth Street Bridge, effectively closing it down. The traffic is tied up back beyond Alexandria. The other bridges have been cleared by this time, but we've got a choke point. The Department of Justice has requested the Marine Corps to a.s.sist in clearing the bridge, and we've been authorized by our command structure for that mission. So let me tell you what that means: we will will clear the bridge, we will do it quickly and professionally and with a minimum of force and damage. Understood?" clear the bridge, we will do it quickly and professionally and with a minimum of force and damage. Understood?"

"Aye, aye, sir," came the cry.

"I want A Company and B Company formed up line abreast, with Headquarters Company in reserve to go by squads to the line as needed. We do not have arrest powers and I do not want any arrests made. We will advance under cover of moderate CS gas with bayonets fixed but sheathed. Under no circ.u.mstances will those bayonets be used to draw blood. We will prevail not by force but by good order and solid professionalism. A DC Police ma.s.s-arrest unit will follow behind, detaining and shipping those demonstrators who do not disperse. Our limit of advance will be the far end of the bridge."

"Live ammo, sir?"

"Negative, negative, I say again, negative. No live ammo. n.o.body will be shot today. These are American kids, not VC. We will move out at 0900. Company commanders and senior NCOs, I want you to hold a quick meeting and get your best squads into the line at the point of contact. This is a standard DOD anti-riot drill. All right, people, let's be professional."

"Dismissed!"

Donny made it back to his squad, as around him other squad leaders were reaching their people. With the weird sensation of a large herbivore awakening, the unit was picking itself up, beginning to form up as each smaller element got instructions. There was some cheering, moderated by ambiguity, but nevertheless a simple expression of the soldier or Marine's preference for doing anything rather than nothing.

"We'll be in that arrow-formation, platoons-abreast thing," Donny explained. "The sergeant major will be counting cadence."

"Bayonets?"

"On but sheathed. Minimum force. We're moving these people out of here by our presence. No ammo, no clubbing, just solid Marine professionalism, got it?"

"Masks?"

"I said said masks, Crowe, weren't you listening? Some CS will be fired." He looked about. The sergeant major had set up a hundred yards beyond the trucks and now the Marines were streaming to him to form up at the line of departure. Donny looked at his watch. It was 0850. masks, Crowe, weren't you listening? Some CS will be fired." He looked about. The sergeant major had set up a hundred yards beyond the trucks and now the Marines were streaming to him to form up at the line of departure. Donny looked at his watch. It was 0850.

"All right, let's a.s.semble and march to position. Form up on me, now now!" His men rose to him and found their places. He marched them at the double time to a formation that was putting itself together on the broad white band of empty highway. His men rose to him and found their places. He marched them at the double time to a formation that was putting itself together on the broad white band of empty highway.

Peter held her hand. He was pale but determined, his face still teary from the gas.

"It'll be okay," he kept saying, almost more to himself than to her. There was something so sad about him, she had a tender impulse to draw him toward her and comfort him.

"All right," came the amplified voice, "WTOP has a camera in the sky and we've just heard that the Marines are forming up to come and move us."

"Oh, this is going to be merry," said Peter. "The Marines."

"I want to counsel everybody; you don't want to resist or you may get clubbed or beaten. Don't yell at them, don't taunt them. Just go limp. Remember, this is your bridge, it's not theirs. We've liberated it. We own it. h.e.l.l, no, we won't go."

"h.e.l.l, no, we won't go," repeated Peter.

"That's the evil part," Julie said bitterly. "They don't come themselves, the guys in the offices who make it happen. They send in Donny, who's just trying to do his job. He gets the s.h.i.tty end of the stick."

But Peter wasn't listening.