by: Marty Chrisman

The young intern frowned when he saw the empty bed. Quickly he hurried to find the nurse on duty. When he found her talking to another patient at the far end of the ward, he signaled for her attention. Excusing herself, she walked over to the irritated intern.

“He’s gone again.” The intern told her

“Not again.” The nurse said with a soft sigh knowing exactly which patient the intern was referring to. “Check outside. You know where to look. If he’s there, bring him back in. I hate to do it but we’re gonna have to restrain him. That leg has to stay elevated or he’s gonna end up losing it. Get someone to help you in case he gets agitated.”

The intern hurried off to do as she ordered. She turned on her heel and walked back to the supply room. She hated to restrain the patient in question but she had no other choice. Until they could get though to him and make him understand that he was safe now and that he had to stay in bed so his leg could heal, this was all she could do. The young man had been brought in three days ago with several other P.O.W.’s from the same camp. At first he was passive and docile but then he had become agitated and hard to handle. Even with his severely injured leg, he kept trying to escape every chance he got. They couldn’t seem to get through to him that he was safe now and no longer locked in a tiny cage in the middle of the jungle. Usually, he could be found outside somewhere around the building huddled in a corner sleeping.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Three long weeks passed, weeks that seemed more like an eternity in hell. By the third week in their cages, both men were so weak that they no longer had the energy to swat at the bugs, insects and other critters that crawled into their cages and over them. They didn’t even seem to feel it when they got bit or stung anymore. Luke was listening as Henry started telling him a story about his Uncle in Tennessee who ran moonshine too. Only half of his mind was paying attention, the other half had drifted off into the recesses of his own mind. Suddenly, Luke felt a sharp sting on his bare foot.

“LUKE!” Henry yelled in a frantic voice “IT’S A SNAKE!”

By the time his words registered in Luke’s foggy mind and he glanced down the snake had already crawled across his pant’s leg and found his foot dish. Through blurry eyes, Luke saw the two little puncture marks just above his left ankle. Being a country boy, he knew far too well the dangers of getting snake bit.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Luke was sitting against the wall of the shed in a daze. There was nothing else to do for hours at a time except to sit in one place, so Luke generally let his mind wander. He had been in this prison for a week but it already seemed like a lifetime. Suddenly the door to the shed slammed open and four guards came inside. Two of them stood by the door, keeping their guns trained on the other prisoners while the other two began scanning the crowd. One them grabbed Luke by the arm, roughly pulling him to his feet, while the second guard grabbed Henry and jerked him to his feet.

Luke’s heart started pounding frantically as the guard gripping his arm jerked him out of the shed and into the brilliant sunlight. He blinked his eyes, the glare of the sun hurting his eyes after being accustomed to the dimness in the shed. Two of the guards took Henry in one direction, while the other two guards forced Luke to walk in another direction. They led Luke into a small hut and forced him to sit down in a chair sitting in the middle of the room. One of the guards grabbed his arms and pulled Luke’s hands behind the chair, trying his wrists together tightly.

Luke tried to keep the fear he felt from showing on his face as another Viet Cong came into the room. He was obviously a higher ranking officer than the two guards who stood on either side of the chair where Luke was sitting. The man glared at Luke for several minutes and then demanded in broken English “Who are you?”

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by: Marty Chrisman

 It was almost two days before they finally stopped walking through the jungle and reached the Viet Cong’s hidden camp. Luke and the other prisoners were totally exhausted and seriously dehydrated. Their hoods were ripped off and their hands and feet were cut loose. Luke blinked and blinked against the sudden glare of the sun. He glanced around and realized that Henry and two other men from his unit besides himself had been taken prisoner. One of their captors waved a gun at that and said in broken English “You strip now….”

With trembling fingers, Luke started taking off his uniform and his boots. When the four prisoners were standing naked in front of them, one of the men jerked off each set of dog tags from around their necks. Another man threw each of them a pair of ragged pants with a drawstring waist and a loose fitting shirt with long sleeves. “You dress…” he ordered, keeping his gun trained on them as they did as they were told. Luke pulled on the dirty ragged clothes, his heart still pounding fiercely in his chest. When they had finished redressing, they were ordered to walk across the compound to a run down building not much bigger than Luke’s bedroom at home. One of their captors unlocked the door and they were all four shoved inside with the door securely locked behind them.

The shed was crowded with other prisoners. Even though there was no light in the shed, there was enough sunlight creeping in through the cracks in the walls to be able to see clearly. Most of the other prisoners didn’t even look human anymore. Their bodies were wasting away from a lack of food and their eyes were empty and dead. Most of them were covered with sores or open seeping wounds. Some injured men were holding amputated body parts against their bodies, trying to will away the pain. The air was heavy with moans and the sound of grown men crying.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Author’s note: The original idea for this story comes from the story Eye of the Storm by CandyLovin Fehrian. This is a terrific story. If you have not read it, please take the time to do so. This original idea and the characters named in a small section of that story are used with her gracious permission and I would like to thank her again for allowing me to expand on it. This is a relatively short story and deals mainly with Luke’s time in the prison camp.

          Luke Duke closed his eyes and tried to rest. He was exhausted. But it was useless. The sound of gunfire in the distance, a sound he should be used to by now, was keeping him awake. Not that he really slept in this place anyway. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in almost two years, not since he was sent to Viet Nam with the rest of his unit. But in a few more weeks it would all be over and he would be going home. His enlistment would be up. Finally, he gave up trying to sleep and sat up on his bedroll. Slapping at one of the endless bugs that seemed to fill the air, he barely noticed the sting on his arm when it bit him. Opening his knap sack, he dug out the picture of his family. Uncle Jesse and his cousins, Daisy and Bo. God, he missed them so much. Especially Bo. He couldn’t wait to go home for good. Sighing, he put the picture back in his knap sack for safe keeping.

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