This is the story of two young men who experienced a strange and unexpected awakening during a traumatic and harrowing wartime ordeal in which they gained a life-altering insight into the nature of their own souls. Although this story is basically fiction, parts of it are based on my own experience. My undying gratitude and thanks goes once again to Mark J., the most insightful literary critic on Earth, for his critical reading of this story. Comments of any nature are welcome.
Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com
Metamorphosis
In almost everyone's life, there comes a time when everything seems to turn upside down and inside out. I was no exception. The world in which I lived, comfortably and satisfied, throughout my childhood and teen years, revealed itself suddenly one day as nothing more than an illusion, a spurious deception of the mind. Everything I thought I knew and believed about the world and about myself, including the very nature of my soul, suddenly metamorphosed inexplicably into a strange, new reality. Some would say it was an epiphanic experience.
My name is William Kilmer (they call me Will), born into a loving family, prominent and successful. I have the pleasure of looking back on my childhood with great fondness. I was a good student in school, but I was known as a mischievous child and was forever carrying notes home from my teachers informing my parents of some misdeed or other I had been involved in, either on the playground or in class.
My father, Charles Kilmer (or Charlie, as he was known) eventually convinced me that I and my older brother, like all children, should try to be a credit to our family. He had an important position as CEO and Chairman of the Board of the large firm that he and his father had founded: Kilmer Construction Company. I may have been mischievous, but I was never rebellious. I understood and I truly did not want to be an embarrassment to him. I was proud that my father was well-known in the community and I hoped that someday I would make him proud of me.
My mother and father encouraged me to date "nice" girls in high school. I was told that I was rather good looking in those days, and that, along with the fact that I was an admired member of the swimming team, afforded me little trouble in getting the best looking girls in school to go out with me. I frequently went on double dates and would end up fairly late at night parked up on Observatory Hill. I would usually be in the back seat with my date, with the other couple in the front seat. We got into some pretty heavy petting, often with my hand inside her panties and her hand inside my fly. But we never went further than that. I would usually go to bed on those nights and masturbate while I fantasized about going all the way with the girl. I was eventually able to land the prettiest and most popular girl in school as my steady date. Her name was Karen. How proud I was when I would strut up and down the halls with her between classes and during the noon hour. I was in a heaven of my own making and I enjoyed having all eyes on us.
When I graduated from high school, the Korean War had just begun. I had always had a bit of an adventurous spirit, and decided to join the Army. My parents were dismayed and disappointed since I had several scholarships awarded to me for college. We had a number of very heavy discussions over it, but my mind was made up. I had taken two years of ROTC in high school, and I found that I loved every moment of it. And I wore my uniform proudly on drill days. I was ten years old when the Second World War had started, and I followed the progress of that war intently during the war's five-year duration. To me it was a grand adventure, and in my childish mind, I had wished that I could have been a part of it.
After I enlisted, both Karen and my parents were there at the train station to see me off to camp. Karen and I promised each other that we would write frequently. I took my basic training at Fort Custer, Michigan in the dead of winter. It was not an easy experience, of course, but I worked hard at it and always got a perfect score on all the tests given us in our classroom work. Nevertheless, one of the cadre, a Sergeant Ron Edwards, tall and blond and muscular, made it his business to be as offensive and repugnant as he could toward me, as well as to several others. While I always knew this kind of behavior was simply part of the game, it added an unsettling dimension to the experience. When we graduated from Basic, Sergeant Edwards shook everyone else's hand but mine. It didn't matter; I was glad to have him out of my sight.
I went on to another eight weeks of advanced training in an antiaircraft artillery battalion. At the conclusion of that period, I was handed my orders to go overseas to Korea. I wasn't in the least nervous; I was, in fact, somewhat exhilarated with the thought that I would have that experience.
After a thirty-day leave, I reported to Fort Lawton in Seattle for shipment to the Far East. I and about 5,000 American and Canadian troops boarded a large troop ship, the U.S.S. Meigs, which would be our home for the ten-day crossing of the Pacific. It was not a comfortable journey, living in hot, cramped quarters and having gone through a tremendous storm. I would frequently get up late at night and go out on deck for fresh air and to look at the moon reflected on the water. On one of those nights, a most unlikely thing happened.
After standing at the rail for some time, I turned to leave and noticed someone sitting on the floor of the deck, leaning against the wall behind me. As I passed by him, I looked at him and could hardly believe my eyes. It was Sergeant Edwards. I had not realized that he had also received orders to go to Korea. I just said a simple hello, and when he looked up at me, I could see that he had been crying. I knelt down and asked him what was the matter. He didn't answer me at first, and I asked again. He had his knees up and his arms wrapped around them. And I could see both his arms and his legs were shaking. Finally, he looked at me and said in a little voice, unlike the one I had known, "I'm just so scared. I'm just so scared."
I asked him if he remembered me. And he said he did. He kept wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm just so scared," he repeated. I had never been in a position to have to comfort someone in this condition, and I didn't know what to say. But I suddenly felt so sorry for him . . . this man I had had so much hate for and so little respect. I felt as though I should say something or do something. Not knowing what to do, I put my hand on his arm in kind of a comforting way. Then he looked up and raised both his arms toward me. It was obvious he wanted me to hug him, or to hug me, or something.
We hugged for a few moments, and I broke away. I felt so inadequate. It was a situation I had never been in before. On top of that, I just couldn't get past my ingrained dislike of the man. I stood up and said some inane thing, like, "You'll be alright. Everything will be fine." Then I walked back to the stiflingly hot bay where I was assigned and climbed into my hammock.
I lay awake for so long that night. I just had a realization that evening about something I had never thought about. It was perfectly clear. What you see in another man is never reality. It's pure illusion. Here was this tough, hard-talking, muscle-bound son-of-a-bitch. But what I had known of him was not real. Locked up inside of him where no one could see was an insecure little boy, wracked by fear and doubts about himself. He had doubtlessly always seen himself as tough and fearless, always projecting a persona that was pure illusion. But now, when put to the test, he was facing a stark reality about himself, and he was terrified.
We disembarked at the Port of Yokohama, Japan and, after several days of processing, we were back on the ship headed for the landing at Inchon, Korea. Before landing, we learned that we had all had our specialty MOSs changed to Infantry. There had been so many casualties thus far in the war that Infantrymen were needed badly. I had been trained in antiaircraft artillery, but I could see it wasn't going to do me any good. The Americans were at that time fighting their way up the Peninsula. After landing, we all received our unit assignments. I was assigned to Company E, 21st Regiment, 24th Infantry Division.
My company was on the move when I joined it. Over the next several months or so, I felt as though I was running on an empty tank of gas. I was exhausted most of the time, dirty, unshaven, and full of tension, as we all were. And with winter coming on, I was so cold I didn't think I would ever be warm again. At night, when we would stop, half of us in the company slept, while the others stood guard . . . on for two hours, off for two hours. I never slept well. Karen had promised to write me, but no letter had come. I was informed that no mail would be delivered to us while we were on the move. I missed hearing from her so much. Just a few words from her would have helped.
When we finally reached the Yalu River on the northern border of North Korea, we heard rumors that MacArthur was going to have us push across the river into Manchuria. But MacArthur was at odds with President Truman over that issue, resulting in MacArthur's dismissal. While we camped on the banks of the Yalu, a letter finally came from Karen, along with two letters from my mom and dad. Karen's letter was a long one, and I could smell her perfume on it. Dad said that he was following the war carefully on a map. It had been made public where the 24th Division was, but not my unit.
It was just a matter of days when the Chinese entered the war and came streaming down upon us from across the river. We couldn't hold our positions and started pulling back. The Chinese were coming at us with what seemed like hundreds of thousands of men, along with tanks and artillery. We pulled back on foot for several days with no sleep. As many as could manage climbed on trucks and tanks, but most of us had to walk. I kept walking but I felt as though I couldn't take another step. The terrain was very hilly. We were able to stay mostly in the valleys and avoid the hills, but we were forced in our haste to climb over a number of hills. When we would get to the top, we could see another range of hills before us, and then another and another.
It was the second or third or fourth night . . . I don't remember which . . . . There was constant arms fire behind us, and it seemed as though it was getting ever closer. I think I began to run through the snow. Then something hit me in the back and knocked me forward. It actually felt as though I was gently pushed over. It wasn't what I had imagined being shot would feel like. But I couldn't get up. All I could do was to roll over on my back. I reached behind me and felt a hole in my parka in the middle of my back on the left side. Almost immediately, I felt a hot, burning sensation begin. Then I felt something warm flowing over my hand. I could see in the faint moonlight that it was blood. I removed my hand and lay there on my back, unable to move. Every move I made sent a shooting pain up along my back to the nape of my neck.
All the others around me had gone on. I tried to peer into the darkness, but I could see no one. I could still hear the arms fire some distance behind me. I tried again to move, but I felt almost paralyzed. I lay there on my back for a long time; I don't know how long. I knew I was alone now. And I felt the strangest calm come over me as I told myself I was going to die. Then came a terrifying feeling of profound loneliness, and then panic. I oddly had no real fear of dying. But I didn't want to die alone. I was all alone in the middle of nowhere, and I was going to die and nobody cared. Nobody was there to say goodbye to me. I thought about my mom and dad. I wished so badly to be able to say goodbye to them, and to have my mom put her hand on my cheek, as she always did when she put me to bed as a kid. And Karen. If only there was a way I could send you a message, I thought, to tell you I love you and miss you.
I closed my eyes and began to cry. Why did I have to die alone, I thought. No one should have to die alone, without someone to say goodbye or say 'I love you.' Nobody knows. Nobody cares. The pain in my back was subsiding. I could no longer feel it. I felt tired. I wanted to go to sleep. I wanted to die in my sleep.
I awoke with a start when I felt something on my arm. I looked up and it was a young man with a Medic's band around his arm. "It's alright," he said. "Don't move. Where are you hurt?"
"My back," I said. As the tears started to well up in my eyes again, I looked into his face. His face was dirty and his hands were dirty, and he looked exhausted.
"Can you sit up?" he whispered.
"I don't think so," I said, as I tried to move, but couldn't.
The Medic gently rolled me over on my side. I no longer had any pain, but I still couldn't move on my own. He had a very tiny flashlight that he shown into the wound. He said, "It's a good thing you've been lying on your back in the snow. The cold snow on the wound inhibited the bleeding. I'm going to have to cut open your parka so I can dress the wound until we can get you back for medical attention."
The Medic cut open my parka, as well as the sweater and two shirts beneath, and poured Sulfa into the wound and dressed it. Then he called on his radio for help to come with a litter. After calling numerous times, he wasn't able to contact anyone. And very soon, the radio went completely dead. We could hear the sound of tanks to the north of us, and they were coming closer. I finally said, "Go on ahead and save yourself. They're coming closer, and there's no reason for you to get caught in this. There's no way I can move. You might as well get out of here while you can."
"I'm not going to leave you," he whispered.
"Why not?" I replied. "I'm going to die anyway. Go on."
"No, you're not. You're not going to die."
We began to hear voices, Chinese soldiers shouting as they came closer. We heard the grinding roar of tanks that seemed as though they were almost upon us. The Medic rolled me over on my side and put his hands under my shoulders and dragged me into the midst of a thick clump of leafless bushes covered with snow.
"I don't think we'll be seen here," he said. "Be very quiet."
Chinese soldiers dressed in thick padded jackets and pants, with hoods and flaps down over their ears, began to run past us on all sides. Tanks rumbled by, making the ground shake. Hidden from view, we lay very still. The stream of shouting soldiers seemed never to end. It was like being stranded on a small sand bar in the middle of a raging, flooded river. It went on and on through the night. I thought it would never end. I was certain that, at any moment, they would find us and kill us. In a way, I wanted it to end that way, quickly and with little pain.
Eventually, the flow of Chinese troops had stopped and we could see the first glow of the dawn in the East. Looking south, we saw a long, seemingly endless ridge of hills stretching from east to west as far as we could see. Swarming all over the top and sides of the hill were Chinese troops, now in bivouac, setting up their temporary encampment. I knew now that there was no way out for us.
I looked at the Medic. His helmet was lying by his side and the flaps of his pile cap were down and tied under his chin. He was looking at the hopeless scene that confronted us. He was so young, I thought. He was just a boy, no older than I. His face was very dirty and when he took off his gloves to wipe his eyes, his hands looked delicate and slender. His face was wreathed with exhaustion. Neither of us had slept, and his eyes were red and watery. He rolled over on his back and stared at the sky through the snarl of bare twigs that formed a canopy above us.
While I had felt almost paralyzed during the night, I was heartened when I realized that I could now move and roll over. I felt a dull ache and a tightening in my back, but no real pain. "I wish you had taken the opportunity to get away last night," I said. "You didn't have to stay with me."
"Yes, I did," he said, turning his face toward me, with a faint smile on his lips. "It's my job. I guess we'll be here for awhile. My name's Shep. Shepard Cramer. What's yours? I see on your tag, your name's Kilmer. Do you have a first name?"
"Yeah, my name's William Kilmer. Everyone calls me Will."
"How are you feeling, now, Will?"
"My back doesn't feel too bad. I just feel stiff and really weak. I haven't eaten in several days."
Shep reached into the satchel that hung around his neck. "Here, I have one Baker's chocolate bar left. I'll split it with you."
After we ate the chocolate, I picked up my canteen, which I had taken off earlier. "I think this is about half full," I said, passing it to Shep. "Here have a drink."
"Is that all the water we have?" Shep said. "Why don't you keep it for yourself. Before I came upon you last night, I lost my rifle and ammo belt and my canteen. Everything was crazy. I'd never seen anything like it."
"What happened?" I asked.
Shep said, "I just got over here a month or so ago. This was my first time out in the field. I thought I was well-trained. I had a lot of medical training after I took my Basic back in the States. But I never thought it would be like this. There were suddenly wounded guys everywhere, and I couldn't save any of them."
"What do you mean?"
"They all died. I couldn't save any of them. They all died. Every fucking one of them died. There was nothing I could do."
"You saved me, Shep," I said. "I haven't died . . . not yet anyway."
"No, and you're not going to die, either. I'll give my own life before I'll let you die."
Shep rolled over on his stomach and stared out at the Chinese troops spread out over the hills before us. Neither of us spoke for a long time. Then he sat up and looked at me. "How old are you, Will?"
"I'm nineteen," I replied.
Shep smiled and said, "I'm nineteen, too. Where's John Wayne now that we need him? He always saved the day in all those war movies we saw during the last war. No matter what kind of a jam he got into, he always found a way out!"
Shep raised his arm into the air and said, "Charge! Up over the hill! Kill them Japs! Hurray for the USA!"
Just as Shep turned his face away from me, I could see tears streaming down through the dirt on his cheeks. I took hold of his wrist and said, "Well, maybe John Wayne will show up miraculously and get us out of this."
"No," Shep said as he continued to look away. "I'm so scared. I'm not very brave. Not brave at all. I'm supposed to be out here overcoming all the dangers and be here to help people. But I failed at everything."
"But you saved me, Shep," I said putting my hand on his shoulder.
Shep turned his head and looked at me. "No, I didn't. You're going to be alright. That bullet isn't going to kill you. It missed your spine and is just lodged in the muscle in your back."
"But you put Sulfa in it and dressed it," I said, "and without that I could have died from infection."
Shep nodded slightly and then sat up. Looking down at me for a long time, he asked, "Do you have a girlfriend, Will?"
"Yes, I do. Her name's Karen. I knew her in high school and she said she would write me. But I've only gotten one letter from her so far. I was hoping that her letters had just stacked up somewhere waiting for us to stop moving so they could be delivered. But she had written only one. How about you?"
"Yeah. Her name's Lisa. She cried when she saw me off. We both cried. But I haven't gotten any letters yet from her. I haven't heard from my mom and dad, either."
"Where's your hometown, Shep?" I asked.
"I was born and raised in Lincoln, Nebraska."
"Hey," I said. "I'm from Lincoln, too! My dad's runs a construction company there. I went to West High. How about you?"
"I went to East High. We probably saw each other in the stands during our football games."
"Do you think you and Lisa will ever get married?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe. I just don't know. How about you and Karen?"
"Yeah, we might get married. But we never talked about it. If I get married, I'd like to marry a virgin. And Karen claims she's a virgin."
"Lisa claims she is, too. I don't know why, but I'd kind of like to be her first. All my friends bragged that they've slept with their girlfriends, but I just never wanted to do that. When it came to sex, I was perfectly happy to take care of myself, if you know what I mean."
I said, "I know what you mean. It was the same with me. It's been a long time, though, since I've done that."
When I tried to sit up, Shep got up and helped me. My back was stiff, but I felt no pain, just a dull ache. The sun was now down on the western horizon and a cold wind began to blow across the valley, whipping up the dry snow into swirls around us. Shep had taped up the back of my parka that he had cut open to keep out the cold. But a cold chill came over me that was almost unbearable. My teeth were actually chattering and I could feel my whole body lurching with chills. As the sun finally sunk below the horizon, it began to snow.
We were both exhausted from lack of sleep and hunger. It seemed we no longer had any saliva in our mouths and our words began to slur as we talked. I reached for my canteen and told Shep to drink as much of it as he wanted, and I would finish it. Soon the water was gone. Shep filled the canteen with snow the best he could through the narrow neck. Then he put it inside of his clothing next to his skin. "We have to get the snow melted," he said, "and when it's warm, we can drink it. Don't ever try eating any of the snow. People who were lost and did that often died of hypothermia."
It was now very dark with no moon, as there had been the night before. The snow began to come down harder and blew mercilessly into our shelter of bushes. Shep lay down next to me, pressing his body against mine in an effort to keep warm. I could feel his body shivering. The snow drifted against us and on us. I brought my scarf up over my face and put the long end of it over Shep's face. I felt him pressing his face into the crook of my neck. We put our arms around each other in a vain attempt to keep warm. The wind seemed to blow the snow upon us with gale force and the bitter cold crept through our clothing with cruel relentlessness.
I started to hallucinate. I saw the faces of many men leaning over me, reaching out for me, but never able to touch me. Some were laughing, some were calling me terrible names, and some were just looking at me with pitiable expressions. I sat up and started calling out to them to help us. "Help us! Help us! Please!" Shep rose up and grabbed me by the shoulders. My lips were parched and chapped and I could hardly speak. But I yelled at Shep to plead with these men to help us. Shep slowly pulled me down on my back as I watched all the men with canteens in their hands, pouring the water out onto the ground. I fell back, crying hysterically as the snow continued to fall on my face. Shep gently brushed it from my face with his fingers and brought the scarf back over it. I could feel his arms around me, holding be tightly, with his face once again buried in the crook of my neck.
The men were gone and I was exhausted. I felt the strength of Shep's arms around me, tight and secure. I had a feeling sweep over me that I had never felt before. I was in a cocoon. Shep and I had become one. One body, one soul. We needed each other. Neither of us would survive without the other. He had become part of me, and I part of him. I removed the scarf from my eyes so that I could see him. I felt his warm breath on my cheek. I suddenly wanted to breathe his breath, take his soul into mine. He was at last asleep. I moved my lips close to his and breathed in his warm breath, as he breathed mine. I put my arms around him, and as I pulled him closer, his face touched mine. Nothing could hurt us now. Perhaps we would die together and our souls would merge and be together for all of eternity.
I awoke as sunlight streamed in upon us. The snow had stopped and the sky was clear. Shep was peering out upon the hillside in front of us. The Chinese were still there. He took the canteen from beneath his clothes and handed it to me. "Here, Will, drink. It's body temperature now."
I looked into Shep's face, the dirt now streaked from the tears he had shed earlier. I wanted to say something about what I felt that night, but I couldn't find the words. I couldn't possibly describe what had happened to me when we were locked in each other's arms.
"Did you get some sleep last night, Shep," I finally said.
Shep looked at me quizzically, as though something strange had happened to him also. "Yeah, I think I slept okay, but I had crazy dreams."
"Like what?"
"You wouldn't want to know, Will," he said with a slight shake of his head.
I said, "When you were dreaming, was I somewhere in there?"
"Yeah, you were there."
For a few moments, he continued gazing intently into my eyes as though he was seeing something he had never seen before. Then he looked back at the hillside. I wondered if he had felt the same thing that I was feeling as we lay close to each other.
We spent the day doing nothing but observing the movements of the Chinese on the hill to the south. My mind was whirling. I couldn't get what I had felt the night before out of my mind. I tried to understand it, but it all seemed too complicated and strange, as though it happened to someone else, not myself. I never once thought of Karen. Her letter remained in my pocket, but I couldn't look at it again. There were conflicts shooting through my mind that involved both Karen and Shep.
It was now our third night together in those bushes. I had a peculiar feeling that I never wanted to leave that spot. We had no food, and we were both getting weaker. In the late afternoon, we both found ourselves on our backs, hardly able to move. Shep looked at me and said, "Maybe you're right, Bill. Maybe we'll both die here together."
I rolled close to Shep and said, "Shep. Tell me about your dreams last night."
"That's what I dreamed about," whispered Shep, "that we both died here together."
I looked into his blue eyes and waited for more.
"And we both went up to heaven, and we . . . ."
Shep stared at me as tears filled his eyes. He then pushed up against me and put his arms around me. We pressed our cheeks together and held on to each other with all the power we had left in our arms. Neither of us knew what to say. There was nothing to say. We both understood. A love had come over us both, a bond that we knew would never be broken, even in death.
As night fell, a cold wind swept down through the valley and over us. We were finally asleep. But I soon awoke at the sound of muffled groans coming from Shep. "What's the matter, Shep?" I asked.
"I feel terrible. I feel sick."
Shep's body was shaking. He was shivering all over. I lay my hand on his forehead and I could feel that he seemed to be burning up. I removed his pile cap, and strings of his matted, dirty blond hair fell down over his eyes. I reached over and took a handful of snow and, pushing his hair back, put some on his forehead. Shep began talking incoherently.
"Don't talk, Shep," I whispered. "It feels as though you have a really bad fever." Shep lay there quietly. His whole body was shaking. I sat beside him for the rest of the night, stroking his head and trying to keep his forehead cool with some snow. Even though the air was cold, his face became damp with sweat several times during the night. By morning, the fever seemed to have passed. He was asleep and I looked down into his handsome face and thanked God. Whenever I had looked at another man, I had never been affected by the look of his face as I was by Shep's face. I had never seen beauty in another man's face as I saw in Shep's face. I suddenly realized that this masculine face was more beautiful than any face I had ever seen on a woman. It was the face of a man. A man who was vulnerable and fragile and who needed me. Never had I seen that in a man before.
As the sun rose, I suddenly felt water on my hand. Looking up, I saw drops of water falling from the bare twigs of the bushes. The ice on them was melting. I looked up into the sky, and the sun actually felt a little warm on my face. The temperature had obviously gone above freezing during the night. As Shep awoke and slowly opened his eyes, I showed him the droplets of water.
During the night, I had tried to get up so I could pee. But the ache in my back wouldn't allow me to do more than sit up. So I just let it go and peed in my pants. I hated the feel of it. This was the third time I had to do that. I had done it first when I was alone before Shep appeared. I hated to think what my underwear looked like. And I knew if it got much warmer, it would smell. I had not been able to get out of my clothes or change them for almost four months. I remembered that, before I was wounded, I could see a bit of my underwear when I stood and peed. My white underpants had turned a sickening brown with sweat and urine. But when I looked down into Shep's face as he looked up at me, it just didn't matter. I was alive and I had Shep near me. That was all I thought about. I didn't think about home or about Karen, or even about finding our way back. The look in Shep's eyes as he looked at me was all I needed. As dire as our situation was, I felt that my world was somehow real and complete for the first time in my life. I couldn't explain it to myself. I didn't want to explain it.
Shep dug around in his satchel to see if by chance there might be something in there we could eat. He pulled out two packages of hard tack crackers. "I had forgotten about these," Shep said, as he handed me one of the packages. "Let's be sure to eat them slowly and try to make them last. We don't really need much food to survive as long as we have water. We can live on water a long time."
To conserve what little energy we had left, we both lay down again and watched all the movement on the hillside before us. That night, it turned cold again, and we once again wrapped ourselves in each other's arms. For most of the night, we kept our bearded cheeks pressed together. At length, Shep whispered in my ear, "I like the feel of your breath on my face, Will. It feels warm and comforting."
I could tell that Shep wanted to say more, but instead he just tightened his arms around me and pressed his face closer. Not long after we had drifted off to sleep, we were suddenly awakened by the sound of explosions. Looking up in the sky, we saw the old familiar beams of searchlights that the Americans always used in Korea to light up the night. The explosions continued and we could tell that the Chinese on that hill were being bombarded by our artillery.
I said, "Shep! The Americans! They must be just on the other side of those hills! The Chinese have obviously not advanced any further and our troops are holding the line! Look! They've set up their search lights again and they're blasting the Hell out of those Chinks!"
Shep sat up next to me, and we supported each other with our arms around each other's shoulders as we sat there and watched. The artillery fired round after round onto the hill for the rest of the night. At the first rays of sun light, the bombardment ended. It still looked as though there were hundreds, perhaps thousands of Chinese running around on the hill.
Shep said, "Will, since our troops are right there on the other side, maybe we ought to try and find a way out of here. Maybe if we walk west, we might find another valley that could take us to them."
The reality suddenly hit me that it was over. Never mind the pain, the misery, the cold, the aching. Would I ever have this wonderful man in my arms again?
Shep searched through his satchel and pulled out several rolls of gauze and tape. "Will, let me put a heavy binder around your back and stomach, and maybe that will allow you to walk without much pain. Okay? Do you think it's worth our giving it a try to get out of here?"
"Yes!" I said as cheerfully as I could. "When darkness comes again, let's give it a try."
I took off my parka and raised up my several layers of shirts and sweaters. It was the first time I had seen my bare skin for months. The wind was icy cold, but it felt strangely exhilarating on my skin. "Hurry up, Shep, before I freeze to death!"
I looked down at my stomach as Shep wound the binding around me. My ribs were now showing so clearly and my stomach was so sunken in, I looked as though I had just been rescued from a concentration camp. Shep patted my stomach with his hand and said with a smile, "You've lost a little weight there, boy!"
I impulsively grabbed his hand and held it against my stomach. He didn't try to remove it, but rather held it there himself. The look in his eyes at that moment as he looked at me told me that he was feeling what I had felt.
When he had finished, Shep helped me to my feet and I took a few steps. The binding was very tight, and I felt very little pain in my back, except a slight twinge now and then. But my legs were like soft rubber, I had been off of them for so long, I had difficulty putting one step ahead of the other. During that day, I practiced walking and, although my legs became tired, we started off when night fell. The strong search lights were back on and the bombardment of the hills resumed. We stopped frequently to rest, but I soon became used to it, and we were walking farther and farther after each rest. We saw no opening in the range of hills where we could turn south, and there were Chinese troops all along the ridges as far as we could see. We had walked all night with intermittent rests and, as the first rays of day began to appear, we located another clump of bushes where we would hide out until night came again.
We lay on our backs resting all day. I wanted to ask Shep to tell me more about himself, but didn't know what to ask. I finally said, "You know, Shep, I haven't thought about my girl friend once since you and I have been out here." As soon as that came out of my mouth, I felt I should tell him why I hadn't thought of her. But I still wasn't sure just what it was I was feeling, and I certainly didn't know how to express it to him. I thought about the times I was with Karen, but now it seemed like it was someone else with her, not me.
"I don't either," Shep said.
"You don't what," I asked.
"I don't think about Lisa, either. Funny. I haven't received a single letter from her, but I don't care. I don't know why, but I don't care."
I laid my head on Shep's shoulder and he brought his arm up under me and pulled me to him. It wasn't a gentle tug. It was a strong, masculine tug. A tug that said he had to have me close to him. We said no more and were both soon asleep. We slept until we heard the incessant bombardment of the hills begin again. It was dark and the search lights were once again casting a glow from the clouds.
We started out again, and had been walking for about a half hour when Shep let out a groan and fell. Sitting in the snow and holding his ankle, Shep said, "Aw, shit, Will. I stepped in a hole and turned my ankle. God damn, it hurts! I wonder if I sprained it. After a while, I helped him up and told him to lean on me as we walked. He put his arm around my shoulders and we walked slowly. He couldn't put any weight on his foot, and we soon had to stop. We found a small cliff jutting up near the side of the hill, where we sat down, protected from the cold wind. The pressure of his weight on my shoulders was making my back ache a little, and I was glad to rest. I took his boot and sock off and could see that his ankle was swollen. I put some snow on it in the hope that it would reduce the swelling.
"I'm sorry, Will," Shep said as he held onto his lower leg. "I've really screwed up, haven't I?"
I looked at Shep, and I knew he was now my world. Everything I had ever lived for was right here. This boy was now the only thing in the world that mattered to me. Damn my back. The Hell with the wound. I would carry Shep in my arms for the rest of the way if I had to. And I would. For him, I would find the strength to do anything!
Shep soon said that his ankle felt a little better after I had pressed the snow on it. I put his sock back on, and as I pushed his foot into his boot, I grasped his bare calf. The feel of the muscles in his leg and the soft hair that covered it, sent the blood rushing to my head. I thought of the time I had touched Karen's white leg with its newly shaved stubble prickling my hand. I hated it. Now, it was all I could do to pull my hand away when I finally had his boot back on. Shep was a man. He was a man who excited me in ways I couldn't understand. I longed to be wrapped in his strong arms, to touch his masculine skin, to feel his cheek on mine and his breath on my neck. I knew that when we found our way back, it would all be over, and the thought sent panic through my chest.
We resumed our walk with Shep leaning on my shoulders. I was exhausted and wondered if my next step would be my last. Once again, we found a clump of bushes to hide in as the sun came up on another day. In the distance, though, we saw a small valley that went south between the hills. But we couldn't take another step. We lay in each other's arms and slept again until nightfall. Shep's ankle had swollen again and, before we started out, I once again packed snow around it. I held onto his leg again as I had done the previous night. The feel of his skin and the soft hair that covered it almost overcame me. I ran my hand lightly over his leg and, as I looked up at him, he put his fingers on my face. He smiled the sweetest smile I had ever seen as he traced his fingers lightly over my eyebrows, my nose and my lips.
I wanted to tell him that I didn't want to go any further, that I wanted to stay right there and be with him alone and never go back. As I thought about going down that valley to the south and into my unit again, I started to cry. I held his hand against my face. I didn't want him to pull away.
But I knew the end had to come. We were on the last leg of our trek back to where we belonged, and there was no avoiding it.
We walked throughout the night and soon came upon the artillery unit that had been firing on the hills. We collapsed on the ground. I remember several soldiers running toward us, and then I must have lost consciousness. I awoke in the back of a medical van rumbling down a rocky road. I was on my stomach and a medic was changing the dressing on my back. I asked him where Shep was. He told me that my friend was being sent back to his medical unit where he would have his ankle treated.
The medic said, "Your friend pleaded with us to take him with you. He made quite a scene. But we couldn't do that."
"Where am I going?" I asked.
"We're taking you to a MASH hospital that just got set up a few miles from here. You had pretty nasty looking wound. But whoever the field medic was who tended you did a good job in dressing it. There appears to be no infection. They'll get that bullet out of you and fix you up good as new."
I said, "The Medic who dressed it was the guy who was with me when we got back. We're really good friends, and I want to find out where he is. Do you think they'll know down at the hospital?" Tears began to fill my eyes. "Please, Sergeant. I've got to find him."
"Now calm down, Kilmer. You two must have become awfully close. How long were you guys out there?"
"Four, five, six days . . . I don't know. I don't remember."
"Wow. But the important thing right now, Kilmer, is for you to get this wound taken care of."
I lay there, feeling as though I had lost everything. I felt empty and desperately lonely and I didn't care if I died right there.
I spent five days at the MASH hospital with no word from Shep. I cried myself to sleep every night. On the fifth night, a Medic stopped by my bed and asked me what was the matter. I told him I wanted to find out where PFC Shepard Cramer was. Then he said, "Well, that's easy. We've gotten a call from him every day since you've been here asking how you were."
I sat up straight in my bed and said, "You did? Why didn't you tell me? Where is he?"
"He's at his own unit, the 109th Medical Detachment. He was calling on a field phone. And you know those fucking field phones. They keep cutting off and full of static. All I could get when he called was his asking how you were."
I lay there with my mind going in all directions. My heart was so full. Just then, a second letter from Karen was delivered to me. She said she missed me and hoped I was alright. Then I read the last paragraph.
"Will, daddy has agreed to pay for our wedding. And it's going to be a big one. It will be at our Grace Episcopal Church, of course, and I need to talk to you about your taking Confirmation Classes before the wedding. I know you've been raised as a Methodist. But it will be important that you be an Episcopalian for the sake of our family. I know that you used to talk about going to Hawaii to live, but I don't want to be that far from mother. So when you get out, I think it's important that you find work right here in town. Daddy says he'll be glad to give you a job in his company if he can find a suitable opening. I love you, Karen"
What is this? I thought. We hadn't agreed to get married. I'm the one who's supposed to do the proposing. And what's this about becoming an Episcopalian? And I'm sure not going to be working for her daddy. Live near her mother? No way! I threw the letter on the ground. I was steaming. I wondered. Had I ever loved Karen? That must have been someone else who loved Karen. It wasn't me. I'm not that same Will anymore. Did I really love her? She dragged me around by the balls! That's what she did! I didn't know what was happening. I must have been out of my mind. That wasn't really me. I thought it was me, but I was living an illusion. I was acting out someone else's life. It wasn't me!
When I was eventually discharged from the MASH, I was sent back to Easy Company, but since I was deemed no longer fit for combat, I was assigned a clerical job behind the lines. I had access to a field phone and called Shep every morning. And he would call me every afternoon. We had to be careful what we said over those phones, but during each call, we managed to express how much we missed each other. Shep was no longer on field duty with a unit, but was now assigned an administrative job with his detachment.
The time soon came for me to rotate back to the States. Shep still had several months left in his Korean tour of duty. Before I left, I gained permission to take a jeep and drive over to Shep's unit to say goodbye. We drove up into the hills and sat and talked for several hours. I promised to go and see his parents when I got back home and assure them that he was alright. I told him, also, that I was going to break off with Karen. I admitted to him that she was no longer what I needed in my life. I stopped short of telling him that I wanted to live the rest of my life with him. He told me that he was doing the same thing. He had yet to receive the first letter from Lisa, and that was okay. Everything had changed. He said only that he now knew what he wanted in his life, and she would not have a part in it. He also stopped short of telling me what it was he now wanted. I think we both knew. Nothing had to be said. We just knew.
Before we parted, we held each other in our arms for a long time. He told me he had never seen my hair until now. He said he loved my dark brown curly hair. I reached over and brushed his light blond hair out of his eyes and said, "I remember I did this that night when you had that bad fever."
We touched each other's cheeks, now clean shaven. We both had dimples and we smiled as we ran our fingers over them. We promised we would write each other every day.
After I arrived home in Lincoln, my parents wanted to throw a big welcome home party, and they would invite Karen. I told them that I appreciated it, but I didn't want a party. That first night home, I sat in my room and looked around at all the old familiar things that were just where they were the day I left. I was glad to be home, but my mind was on Shep. As I sat down to write my first letter to him, my dad came in.
"Well, son," he said. "It's so good to have you home. I've missed you. We've all missed you. I suppose you'll be calling on Karen tomorrow."
"Dad, sit down," I said. "I want to talk with you about that. I don't want to see Karen. But I'm going to have to. I'm going to break it off between us."
"Break it off?"
"I only got two letters from her, dad, the whole time I was over there."
"Only two?"
"Yeah. But that's not the reason. Dad, I'm a different person now than I was when I left."
"I know, son," dad said. "The war and all. And getting wounded. All young men are changed by war."
"Dad, it isn't the war or getting wounded. Not directly anyway. I don't know exactly how to put it. I met someone over there. And he changed my life. He changed the whole world I live in. I'm no longer the same person I was when I left here, Dad. Somehow, I saw into the soul of another person. It wasn't a woman; it was a man like myself. And when I did, I saw kindness and an unselfish heart, something I never saw with any girl I used to date. We became part of each other. We were one soul, one heart. That never happened with me and Karen, or with any other girl."
I waited for dad to react badly to this revelation. But, without changing his expression, he said merely, "Yes, go on. I understand."
I got up and sat next to dad on the edge of the bed and said, "Dad, he and I almost died together, and we would have been content to do so. Does that make any sense? But we saved each other. I never felt so selfless in my life. He was all that mattered to me. We became one in both heart and soul. We were either going to die together or we were going to help each other stay alive. I know all that's hard to understand. Two men feeling this way about each other."
Dad reached over and took my hand and said, "I do understand, son. Believe me I do understand."
"I never thought you would, dad." Then I turned to face and said, "Was there something you . . . ."
"Not now, son. This time belongs to you and . . . . What's this young man's name?"
"His name is Shep. Shepard Cramer. It's amazing, but his home is right here in Lincoln. But he won't be home for another several months when his tour is over."
"Shep Cramer?" dad said, raising his voice slightly. "I know his father, Harvey Cramer."
"That's right," I said. "He said his father's name was Harvey."
That's a real coincidence," dad said. "I went to school with Harvey Cramer. He's now the president of Lincoln Steel Fabricating, a really big firm doing business all over the midwest. He's a big supplier of steel for our company. But we're always fighting over price. He can be an obstinate bastard. I keep threatening to take my business elsewhere. But he eventually gives in. He's mentioned his son, Shepard, a few times and I think he wants him to come into the business. Harvey's a shrew businessman, and not always easy to get along with when it comes to negotiating a purchase. But we've always managed to remain friends."
I said, "Dad, I'm glad you know Shep's dad. I'm anxious for you to meet him when he comes home. He has a girlfriend, too, waiting for him to come home. But that's finished also."
The next morning, I called Karen and asked her to meet me at Thelma's Coffee Shop near where she lived. Before we went in and sat down, she gave me a big hug and a kiss. But she never said "Welcome home" or asked me how I was. As soon as we sat down, she launched into her plans for the wedding.
I stopped her and said, "Karen, this is the last time we'll be seeing each other." She sat stunned and unbelieving. "Karen, I'm not the same person you knew before I left. I don't want to get married. I never gave you any reason to believe that I did."
"You met someone else, didn't you?" she said, dropping her hands in her lap.
"Yes."
"Who is she, Will?"
"It's not a she," I said, looking directly at her. "It's another man like myself. We met on the battlefield in Korea." I didn't know how to explain to her the kind of relationship Shep and I had developed. I simply said, "We became very close, and I've learned a lot about myself and what it means to really love someone."
Karen leaned toward me and said, "So you learned that you don't love me. You love him, is that it?"
"I didn't say that. I simply said I've learned something about love and what it really means. He has become a very close friend."
"He's a close friend? You love him?" said Karen with sarcasm in her voice. "It sounds to me, Will, that there is a lot more to that friendship than you're telling me. Can you deny that?
"I won't confirm or deny anything to you Karen. I don't need to explain my relationship with him to anyone. You wouldn't understand it if I tried. All you need to know is that you and I will not be seeing each other again."
Karen sat back in her chair and grinned that snarly little grin of hers. "What's his name?"
"It's Shep Cramer," I said.
"Oh!" she said as she raised her voice. "So it's Shep! Who would have thought it? Well, I know something about him. His girl friend, Lisa, has been sitting around here pining away for him ever since he left."
I interrupted. "She wasn't pining for him, Karen. She never wrote Shep a single letter since he left. It doesn't sound like pining to me."
"Well, let me tell you, lover boy," she continued, "Lisa got a letter from him just the other day, and he told her to fuck off!"
"Please, Karen," I said, "it doesn't sound nice when you talk that way. I don't like it."
"Well, I'm not a nice girl, am I, Will?" she said angrily. "And I guess it doesn't really matter now whether you like the way I talk or not, does it?"
"I suppose not," I said. "But I was hoping you would understand."
Karen stood up and looked down at me and said, "You come home and tell me you've decided you're in love with another man, and that I can go to Hell. And you can't figure out why I don't understand? Well, you and your sweet Shep can go ahead and have your little perverted affair. I'm just glad I found out about you in time."
With this little speech, Karen stormed out. I knew that I had handled it badly, but at the same time, a feeling of enormous relief swept over me. And I smiled to myself over the news that Shep had written Lisa and told her to . . . well, fuck off. Knowing Shep, though, I was sure he handled it much better than I had. Shep told me about it in one of his letters that I received several days after my confrontation with Karen. He said that he had gotten a very nasty letter from Lisa in return.
After my 30-day leave, I was assigned to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas to finish out the last several months of my three-year enlistment. Shep and I wrote every day without fail. I missed him more than I had ever missed anyone in my life.
Shep was due to come home in July, just about the time I would be discharged. He had been drafted for only two years, and he would be discharged shortly after returning to the States. The wait was interminable. But the time did finally arrive. He would be flying into San Francisco and would be processed for discharge there at Fort Ord. The timing was perfect. We arranged that two days after my discharge, I would fly out to San Francisco and we would spend a few days together alone before returning to Lincoln.
Shep had written his parents that he had met me in Korea, and they were delighted since they were acquainted with my own parents, with the two fathers having had business dealings with each other. I rented a car and met Shep at the Fort Ord gate. When he got into the car, we threw our arms around each other. We both had tears in our eyes. Then we laughed because we were crying and then we cried and laughed some more. It was the moment for which we had both been waiting so long.
When we arrived at the hotel, it was close to 9 o'clock in the evening, and we went directly to our room. We sat down and looked at each other for a long time. We both knew what we wanted. Our souls and our hearts had been wedded into one. But we had both craved for so long to have our bodies joined as well. The heavy clothing that had separated us when we had tried to be close and become part of each other's physical being in Korea was no longer there to keep our bodies apart. It was the strength and the maleness of our bodies that we needed now in order to complete the union of our beings.
As though we heard a signal we stood up and went to each other. It was time to bring our bodies together, male skin pressed against male skin. When we were on the ground in Korea, Shep had run his fingers gently over the skin of my face, and on my stomach and back as he dressed my wound. And I had touched the skin of his leg as I removed his boot. It had only been a taste to excite our cravings. As we stood there, we slowly undressed each other, touching our tongues and lips to the skin of each part of our bodies as it was exposed, taking in the masculine smell of maleness and strength that we each possessed and gave freely to the other.
Shep's body was slender, yet strong and masculine. He was not particularly muscular, but his muscles were well defined and well proportioned. His skin had a golden hue, with light brown hair covering his beautifully shaped legs and foreharms. His nipples were large and hard, peeking out of a dusting of blond hair that covered his chest. There he stood in the Earthly beauty of his nakedness, offering himself to me. He was mine and would be mine forever.
Shep remarked about my own body and said that he could see that I had the physique of a swimmer. The maleness of my body excited him. The dark hair that grew in swirls on my chest, the dark trail of dreams that ran from my navel into my pubic hair.
With our clothes lying strewn about the floor, we fell upon the bed, our naked bodies now totally exposed to each other. We were now one body, as though we had ingested each other's skin. We devoured every inch of our bodies with our tongues and lips and fingers. We now belonged to each other, inextricably bound by love and overpowering devotion. Our bodies were wet with our saliva and our sweat. We drank in everything from each other's mouth, as though we were in a wild frenzy to climb into each other's body and remain there permanently.
Shep kissed and licked the scar on my back feverishly. To us both, that scar was almost sacred, a symbol of the deep love and friendship we now shared, of a bond that could never be severed.
Our love was strong. But it was not founded on sexual lust. It was born out of our near death experience, the caring we felt when it appeared we had no one else but each other for our survival. It was love, but it was a love different from any kind of love I had ever heard of or read about.
We lay in each other's arms and breathed in each other's breath as we had done on those dark nights on the other side of the world. Since we knew we were now one, it was truly the breath of life for both of us.
We left the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door and spent the entire next day in each other's arms with our skin pressed together. And we didn't eat. It was almost like a religious requirement between us that we would relive one more time the hunger that we had shared in the beginning. That night, we continued to wrap our bodies tightly around each other. Our penises were hard and dripping. We masturbated and then took each other's sperm on our tongues. Swallowing it, as a final consummation of a love that would never die, we both had now taken the fluid into our bodies that came from deep inside of us.
On the flight back to Lincoln, we decided that we would tell our parents that we were going to go away with each other for at a least a year, with the promise that we would return to enter college. We didn't know where we would go. Perhaps to Hawaii, perhaps to Florida, or maybe to the mountains in Colorado. It didn't matter. Whatever we did we would be together, no matter what.
After Shep arrived home, he had told his parents about our decision. They were disappointed that he had broken off his relationship with Lisa, as well as his decision to delay going to college. But they had already heard from my dad about Shep and I meeting in Korea and were prepared for that.
Shep and I pooled our money and bought a used, low mileage, 1951 Chevy. We had decided to go off to the Rocky Mountains and look for what temporary work we could in one of the cities in the region, such as Boulder or Golden, or maybe Colorado Springs.
When the day came to leave, Shep's mom and dad came to our house so they and my mom and dad could see us off together. Our two fathers helped us load up the car. Then after hugs all around, we drove off with our parents smiling and waving to us from the porch. It was to be the beginning of a living dream. Our lives were no longer illusionary; they were real.
The end of Will Kilmer's narrative.
EPILOGUE
Following Will Kilmer's departure that day with Shep Cramer, Will and Shep's mothers went on into the house, while Charlie Kilmer and Harvey Cramer sat down on the porch swing to talk.
Harvey said, "Amazing, isn't it? Those two young men, both from Lincoln, getting to know each other way off there on the other side of the world.
"I never dreamed this would happen, Harvey," said Charlie.
Harvey said, "They're kind of chips off the old block, aren't they?"
Charlie said, "Harvey, when Will told me about this, he was sure I wouldn't understand."
"Did you tell him, Charlie? You know . . . about . . ."
"No, I never did. I just did my best to make him realize I understood. I thought about telling him, but I just never did."
Harvey said, "Remember when you and I met when we were that age, we were both afraid to tell our parents."
"Those were different days, Harvey. We would have been disowned if we had told them."
"You're right, that's for sure. And another big difference then was that we bowed to our family's pressure to get married and have a family."
Charlie said, "I know. But I guess we shouldn't really regret that because look at the two wonderful sons we produced. But I've often wondered what our life together would have been like, Harvey, if we'd done what we had planned."
"You mean go off together to Alaska?"
"Yeah," Charlie sighed. "We could have done it. The great depression was just starting, and neither of us could get jobs. And our parents didn't have enough money to send us to college at that time."
Harvey took Charlie's hand in his and said, "We've never lost our love for each other, Charlie. After that train wreck on our way to Chicago when we were the boys' age, we managed to keep each other alive down in that freezing water for three days. It happened to us like it happened to Will and Shep. Your love and your caring during those horrible hours were the greatest gift I could ever be given. I have a friend, Mark. You know him. He's told me a number of times that he believes all accidents have a purpose. And I believe him.
"I agree with him, too," Charlie said.
Charlie and Harvey sat silently and looked out into the distance for awhile. Then Harvey turned to Charlie and said, "Do you think we should have told the boys? They might have understood."
Charlie leaned back in the swing and, with his hands clasped behind his head, said, "Every man has his secrets. All men are entitled to them. Don't you agree, Harvey? Our lives don't have to be an open book for everyone to see. Our secrets are like jewels in a vault. They're precious, and they're ours. I don't like men who throw their sexuality in my face and demand that I accept it. I would never do that to anyone, not even my son. I'm content to continue living my illusionary life in the open, as long as you and I continue to share our precious secret, Harvey. That's our reality."
Harvey said, "But Will and Shep made it pretty clear to us about themselves."
"Not really, Harvey. They simply told us about the strong bond that had been forged between them during their difficult experience together. That was all. I never asked Will any questions. I just assured him that I understood. There was no discussion whatsoever about his sexuality."
"You're right, Charlie," said Harvey. "It's our secret and, yes, we are entitled to it. And so are Will and Shep. It's no one else's business. We're a part of each other, and there's no need for anyone else to be burdened with trying to understand it. By the way, Charlie, don't you think we're past due for one of our get-away fishing trips up in Minnesota?"
"That's right, Harvey," said Charlie as he patted Harvey's thigh. "You know, we're due for another one of those trips. I suddenly have a hankerin' to . . . you know . . . catch some fish."
"Great idea," said Harvey. "Let's both get off a little early this Friday and drive up there for the weekend. We've got some catchin' up to do, if you know what I mean. And while we're at it, we'll call it a sort of celebration for those two boys of ours who have done what you and I didn't have the balls to do when we were their age. Okay?"
"It's a deal!" said Charlie, as they got up to join their wives in the house.
This has been a single-installment story. For those who wonder what happened to Will and Shep, remember they had forged an unusual and unbreakable bond between them, unlike some very young male couples today, whose relationships are balanced precariously on a thin wire of lust and uncertainty. We can only suppose that Will and Shep would have lived a full, happy, and loving life together. Comments of any kind are welcome.
Tom Borden Tombor99@yahoo.com