P.O.W., ch. 3

by: Marty Chrisman

Days blended one into another until Luke lost of track of time. He could no longer remember how long he had been in the camp. Lack of food, poor hygiene, poor sanitation, a lack of adequate sleep, and continuing physical torture (usually in the form of the electric shocks) were starting to take their toll on Luke’s spirit and his mind. The only thing that kept him sane when things got too bad was his memories of home. He often found himself wondering if anyone at home even knew that he was still alive or if they thought that he’d been killed.

Pete, the only other prisoner he had gotten to know, had finally died of his injuries so now Luke was alone without anyone to talk to. The other prisoners kept to themselves, avoiding each other as much as possible. When the guards came for him again, Luke didn’t resist. He knew that it was no use. Resisting would only get him beaten to death. He’d already seen it happen to other prisoners who tried to resist and failed.

Luke stumbled down the long corridor that was so painfully familiar by now and into the room where they would find more ways to hurt him and try to make him say what they wanted to hear. But there was still a part of Luke that resisted bending to their will and giving up his own identity. He was born a Duke and he would die a Duke and he would not allow them to take that away from him.

Luke jerked his head, startled by one of the guards who had stepped behind him and suddenly slid a black bag over his head. The bag blinded him and made it hard to breath. He felt them tying the bag shut around his neck even as his hands were cuffed together in front of him. Not being able to see what they were planning to do to him terrified him and his heart pounded with fear but he refused to let them see that he was afraid. He felt his hands being pulled above his head as one of the guards pulled on the chain, pulling his body into the air and suspending him a few inches off the ground.

It seemed like an eternity passed with him just hanging there wondering what they were going to do to him now. Then he suddenly heard a swishing sound and a loud crack, followed by a fiery line of pain that spread across his back, making him cry out in surprise at the attack that he couldn’t see coming. Instinctively, his hands clenched into fists as the whip cut across his back again and again. At first he was able to bite back his screams but after 10 lashes with the whip, his resistance broke and his screams filled the air. Luke knew that nobody could hear him except his captors and they enjoyed hearing him scream.

Luke could feel the blood running down his skin as the whip sliced across his back. The rags he wore offered no protection from the bite of the whip. Luke’s body felt like it was being torn to shreds. He jerked helplessly with each blow but there was no escape from the pain. Luke felt a blanket of darkness start to slip over his mind and he fought to remain conscious but it was a losing battle as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness. The guards finally let him down and drug him back outside to his cage, throwing him inside. It was no longer any benefit to them to torture a prisoner who wasn’t awake so that they could hear him scream.

Slowly, Luke forced himself to open his eyes. He was back in the cage, curled up in the corner. His whole body hurt and his back felt like it was on fire. He tried not to move to minimize the pain as much as possible but he couldn’t stop the soft moaning sounds that slipped from his throat.

Suddenly, a young man not much over 18 was kneeling beside him. “It’s okay, Sarge…” he whispered “Just lie still and try to take it easy…..”Through the haze of pain that clouded his vision Luke suddenly recognized the young man as one of the men under his command. Private Billy Jo Spencer from Sagebrush, Arkansas. He had been one of the survivors from the ambush who had been captured along with Luke and the other men. Luke nodded slowly to show that he understood and closed his eyes. He was grateful to just have someone to talk to again and this time it was someone he knew. In his mind, Luke went home to Hazzard.

Luke knew that he would be drafted as soon as he turned 18 and he knew that he would probably get sent to Viet Nam. Several local boys had already been shipped overseas and some of them had already been sent home in body bags. Luke was scared of leaving the farm, the only home he’d even known, and going to fight in a war that he didn’t even understand.

After a long talk with Jesse about his options and his duty to his country, Luke had decided not to wait to be drafted but to enlist instead even though he knew it meant he would serve four years instead of two. But at least this way he had some choice in the branch of service he wanted to be a part of. He chose the Marines because of his own competitive nature. He knew it was considered the toughest of all the armed services and the most demanding but he welcomed the challenge to prove that he could be one of the best. But Luke had never imagined the things he would experience or the chances that would happen inside of him because of his decision.

He had left the farm a boy and had to become a man almost overnight. He had adapted quickly and easily to the rigid discipline of the Marines and in just three years had risen through the ranks to Sergeant with other men under his command. He had been sent to Viet Nam two years ago and if he hadn’t been captured, he would have gone home two days after the ambush that had killed most of his men.

Luke awoke with a start, sending a flash of pain through his body as he jerked involuntarily. He suddenly realized that Billy Jo was lying on the ground beside him, curled up against him and sharing his body heat to help keep Luke warm. Luke sighed softly and slowly let himself relax. He found himself wondering how much more abuse his body could take. He was already seriously weakened from the constant abuse, the lack of adequate food, and sleep deprivation. Everyday he could feel his mind slipping a little closer to the edge of insanity. He had already seen more than one prisoner go crazy, lost forever in the depths of his own mind. Luke was terrified of the same thing happening to him. So far his memories of his family and home had helped him survive the worst of the abuse but how much longer would those memories be enough to keep him alive and fighting to survive.

The next day, the guards came again and this time they took Luke and three other men out of the cage. Instead of taking them into the building, they held guns on them and ordered them to undress, facing the cage so the other prisoners could see them. As they pulled off the rags that they wore, the guards ordered them to get down on their knees. One of the guards smiled coldly as he stepped forward and held a pistol to the temple of the first man in line. He pulled the trigger and the gun went off, instantly killing the young man, who fell to the ground with blood soaking into the dirt around him. Moving to the next man, he did the same thing with the same result. Then on to the third man.

Luke was the last man in line. His heart pounded violently as he felt the barrel of the gun press against his temple. He closed his eyes, silently praying, as he waited for the inevitable. His heart jumped into his mouth as he heard a loud click and the hammer fell on an empty chamber. It took Luke a minute to realize that he was still alive and not dead like the other three men. He was shaking so badly that he collapsed onto the ground. He heard the guards laughing, as they unlocked the cage and threw him back inside, along with his clothes.

Luke doubled over and started to retch but there was nothing in his empty stomach to vomit up except a bitter foul tasting bile that burned his throat and left an awful aftertaste in his mouth. He felt gentle hands on his back and knew that Billy Jo was beside him. “Come on, Sarge….” He said quietly “Let me help ya…” Too shaken to help himself, Luke let Billy Jo dress him, then he crawled over to his usual corner of the cage and sat there with the tears running down his face as he hugged his knees. Please dear god, help me. Please get me out of here. I just wanna go home. I wanna go home…….don’t let me die here in this awful place.

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