Young Man In Vietnam Part 11

You all shake hands and begin to walk slowly toward the edge of the bleachers. You talk about old times and you're really glad to see them again and especially for them to be at "the Top's" parade.

You discuss - for the tenth time - who was the prettiest girl in the Philippines when you hear the adjutant sounding off to start the parade. You are still across the field from the bleachers and you can't run across now that the parade has begun. You walk quickly over to the row of company offices and sit on the ground near a large bulletin board.

The format of this parade is the same as all the other parades you have seen. Of course, it's special because it's "the Top's." You wonder how much of the thirty years he can remember - what is important to him. You think of your three years in the Marine Corps and you can only imagine what is going through his mind.

When the adjutant calls "Pa.s.s in review," and "the Top" takes the reviewing stand, you stand up and you notice that your friends have too. The band is playing some Sousa march and when it pa.s.ses the stand it breaks into the "Marine's Hymn." The music, you suppose, sums up the thirty years about as well as anything can. When the band finishes the "Marine's Hymn" it begins to play something you know you've heard before, but you can't identify it. Suddenly, you realize it is playing a martial version of "Auld Lang Syne."

You greet "the Top" after the parade, but everyone is pumping his hand and congratulating him and pa.s.sing around a bottle. You feel out of place - as if you didn't know him anymore and as if you didn't belong here - and you leave quickly and go back to your car.

The trip back to Los Angeles seems long. It is misting slightly now, not hard enough to really clean the windshield but hard enough to require the wipers to be turned on. You want to think about your time in the Marines as you know "the Top" must have thought. You want to remember the pride of pinning on your first lieutenant's bars and the excitement of going overseas and the thrill and agony and sorrow of Vietnam. The song - "Auld Lang Syne" - comes back to you, and you try to remember the places you saw and the things you did and the people you knew. Mostly you try to remember the people. You try to hum the song, but the noise the wipers make doesn't keep time and you can't. Time enough for memories later, you think, and you switch on the car radio as you drive back home.