Blackmoon Rising

BLACKMOON

R I S I N G

Mark Raymond Corrigan

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

SMASHWORDS EDITION

BLACKMOON RISING

Copyright© 2017 Mark R Corrigan

Cover Design & Interior Layout: Laura Shinn Designs

http://laurashinn.yolasite.com

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BLACKMOON RISING is part of the continued series of Books dealing with the development of the United States Army’s Snipers and those who were part of creating the Legend of Captain Michael Patrick O’Neil.

Charlie Joseph Blackmoon is a full-blooded Lakota Sioux Indian who had carried the knowledge and experiences of his people into the modern battlefield during the turbulent Vietnam era, where he became a legend in his own right. There were only two things he loved more than being a Warrior, that is his family and his horses. He was one of the first men trained by O’Neil. That started his career as a Sniper and now it has brought him full circle when O’Neil comes back for his help to stop the assassin who is trying to kill the Russian Leader Yuri Andropov.

CHAPTER ONE:

THE MAKING OF A REAL WARRIOR

Charlie Joseph Blackmoon stood just over five feet five and weighed slightly over 135 pounds. His jet-black hair and equally dark eyes set off his slightly Asian features that could have been easily mistaken anywhere else except on the Lakota Sioux Indian Reservation in South Dakota. It was here Charlie, his four brothers and two sisters scratched out a living not knowing any better until they were old enough to attend the Regional High School. It was there Charlie found out his Indian ways were looked down upon and with less than the respect, then he felt they were due. Perhaps Charlie had been born over 200 years too late, as he thought himself a warrior and a man of his people. Unfortunately, he also had the Indian’s weakness for the Whiteman’s firewater. He could get high just sniffing the empty whiskey bottles that lay in the back of an alley, when a soft wind was blowing.

Otherwise, Charlie was better than most soldiers and significantly better than the majority of the US Army troops who found themselves serving overseas. Charlie had enlisted in the Army, but he was not that far ahead of the Local Sheriff who had brought him before a Judge, who made that choice for him. Charlie was not a bad kid, he just got wild and did crazy things when booze past through his lips. There were other reasons of course, as life on the Reservation did not offer very many opportunities for people like Charlie or any of the Indians for that matter. The military seemed like a reasonable alternative when parts of his life seemed to fall apart without his help.

During Basic Training Charlie was called Ingin Joe or when his Platoon Members got to know him better, it was just Joe. Joe had a natural talent for being a good soldier. He could run for miles carrying as much if not more than anyone else in his Unit. He qualified with all the basic Infantry weapons and he had done exceptionally well on the Rifle Range, but even more importantly was Joe did exceptionally well on the Armed Forces Qualification Tests and he was found to have a natural aptitude for languages.

After Basic Training and Infantry School Joe was sent to Monterey California to the Vietnamese Language School. Joe not only did well he was exceptional and he was speaking the language with his Instructors as if he had been born in Vietnam. He also picked up a good working knowledge of Spanish from the local Mexican Americans who were friendlier towards him than some of the White Soldiers he was Stationed with.

With all this training Blackmoon clearly expected to be on the next Levy for South Vietnam, but like all things in large organizations, Blackmoon was sent to South Korea’s Second Infantry Division along the Korean DMZ. Joe who had now realized that logic and reason had nothing to do with reality, had accepted this assignment and he had put in a Transfer to South Vietnam. Joe, felt he could contribute more there based upon his language capabilities than just watching the open space between the American and North Korean Soldiers on the DMZ.

Joe had been Promoted to Specialists 4th Class by the time he reached South Korea, but instead of being put on the DMZ, he was detailed to the Main Gate as a MP for the 2nd Infantry Division’s Headquarters. Five Months into his assignment his Company Commander converted his E-4 Rating to a hard stripe Corporal.

However, he remained assigned on the Main Gate as he did his job and did it well, even when dealing with drunk GI’s twice his sized. Joe was noticed by the Division Commander and was given a Special Citation when the Secretary of Defense visited the 2ed Division. Secretary McNamara was impressed with the Corporal who was posted at the Main Gate when he arrived. Joe would have rather gotten his transfer to Vietnam or another Stripe but that did not seem to be in the cards yet.

Joe spent some of his Off-Duty Time learning Korean from the Division’s Interpreter and with a girlfriend he found more than just good at teaching the Korean Language. For the most part he could not complain about his duty or assignment, other than the MPs became targets for harassment during Off Duty Hours. Many of the 2nd Division’s men would hold the individual MP’s responsible for enforcing the General’s Orders and Regulation’s rather than realizing that they were just doing their jobs. The GI Truck divers seemed to be more personally involved in the harassment of Off Duty MPs as the Divers were those who were caught doing something with a Military Vehicle they should not have been doing. Getting a Driving Ticket in the Military can be more painful than a ticket in the civilian world, where you just go in and pay a fine.

Each Unit Commander viewed these offenses differently so the Justice and punishment for the same offence varied widely. One Commander might give the offender an Oral Reprimand while another Company Commander would give extra duty and even take some of the Soldiers pay. The offender could never understand why a fellow Enlisted Man would side with the Officers against them and the MP who got them in trouble was individually responsible for their difficulty.

Life in a Military Headquarters is also like living in a fish bowl or under a large microscope with far too many would be leaders who are looking at someone else to make a mistake so they could make themselves look good. Colonels who wanted a Field Command but sat in a Staff Position found it easy to make current Field Commanders look bad by dealing with their troops in such a way that it reflected unfavorably on that Commander.

Many times, the MP’s are the pawns pulled into such actions and become the unwilling tools of the Games these officers played. The MP’s only defense in most cases was to use good judgment, follow the Regulations and in some cases to have big brass balls. Joe was known for having such balls and he could be counted on to do the right thing 99% of the time.

CHAPTER TWO:

OPPORTUNITY ROLLS THROUGH THE FRONT GATE

It was just 15 minutes to go to the end of his shift when a 3/4 Ton Army Truck pull up to the Main Gate sounding more like a Hot Rod Roadster or some souped up Dragster coming to the Starting line. It literally articulated with mechanical rhythm that would make any auto expert drool with envy. This surely was not what an Army 3/4 Ton Truck normally sounded like and Joe knew it. As he approached the truck, he noticed the hatless driver was also a Corporal and there was a First Lieutenant in the passenger’s seat fast asleep. Joe kept his arm up to indicate that the truck should remain stopped. He quickly changed it to a hand salute as the First Lieutenant seemed to wake up and look around to see why the truck had stopped.

Joe moved to the Passenger’s side of the truck and asked the Officer what was the nature of his business at the Division’s Headquarters. The Truck’s engine was purring now as if it deserved a rest for having come so far today. Yet Joe had a feeling if the Driver just nodded his head the Truck would leap off on its own and charge into the Compound.

Joe’s Military Police Commander had drilled into his men that they not only guarded the Gate but were also the first line of defense against surprise visitors from higher Headquarters. They were responsible for the first alert to the Command and knowing who and why the Visitor was there. A call to the right Staff Officer may have given them only a few minutes to be prepared but it was enough so they would not be caught flatfooted. Such a timely noticed from the Main Gate was deeply appreciated.

What’s the problem? The 3/4 Ton Truck Driver yelled over the noise of the engine.

I need you to Log-In Sir. Joe responded to the Lieutenant. All vehicles that come on Post after 1600 Hours have to Log-In and will need permission to leave unless you plan to stay overnight Sir.

Is that, right? The Driver responded with a loud voice clearly challenging the MP’s authority to decide when and where his truck could go. Joe had no way of knowing this driver of this truck was illegally driving a ‘lost’ vehicle whose registration numbers had been changed so many times no one could ever be sure what they originally had been or what Unit owned this truck. The only thing the driver knew was if he got in trouble his Lieutenant was smart enough to get him out of it. However, if his Lieutenant could not just make the problem go away, they both would be up to their eyeballs in shit, deep shit with a Four-Star General dumping most of it on them.

Joe was about to let the driver understand just who’s authority he represented when the First Lieutenant spoke up. No problem Corporal even though it is not 1600 hours yet, we will be staying overnight. Just sign us in and tell me where we can safely park this thing until tomorrow when we will be leaving. The Officer said.

Yes Sir. Joe responded and walked forward to record the Bumper Unit identification numbers on his Clip board before he returned and gave it to the Lieutenant to sign.

The number of Units this vehicle had represented even during the short time Lieutenant O’Neil had been using it, exceeded the number of times a new Second Lieutenant might have to salute someone between the PX and the parking lot. Every day his Corporal would go out, change the Unit identification number on the front, and back bumpers as he never knew when he would need to out run an MP Patrol. Lieutenant O'Neil never said a word about his driving or his camouflage of the vehicle’s real identity as he had a tuff job to do in a very short time, and running the roads in South Korea seem to be the only way to get it done.

Joe just looked at the truck and he knew those two were surely someone who needed to be watch if there was anyone ever to be watch. Blackmoon also noticed there was a look of quiet confidence about them, and it appeared they were doing something they liked to do and they were doing it well.

Blackmoon had no idea this Lieutenant had been given the almost impossible mission of setting up a Marksmanship Training Unit for the Commanding General of 8th Army South Korea. This came after the near disaster of having an entire Infantry Company expend its basic load of small arms ammunition at a North Korean within the DMZ at less than 300 yards.

This fire-fight if one were to call it one, resulted in no casualties as no one on the American side of the DMZ has set their weapons above zero elevation, so their bullets were hitting into the ground some 30 or 40 yards in front of their positions. That also meant there was absolutely no possibility of hitting the North Korean. This was more than just embarrassing, and a full investigation revealed everyone one in the Infantry Company had been ‘paper qualified’ rather than having qualified on the Rifle Range to establish their Battle Sight set things.

Going into battle without having your weapons set on your ‘Battle sight settings’ is like being blindfolded and shooting all your bullets into the ground between your feet. That was the opinion of the Four Star General Commanding 8th Army in Yongson South Korea who lived up to his name by slipping the Bone with plenty of Steel in the Field Grade Article 15’s he gave every commander he relieved from the Division Commander on down to the Company Commander who had endangered their men in this affair. They were all guilty of gross negligence as if this had been an actual attack these soldiers on line would not have been able to defend themselves with their weapons.

Every Unit in the 8th Army’s Command was now Ordered to re-qualify every man with his primary and secondary weapon and this young Lieutenant whose Personnel Records indicated he had been a member of the 5th Army’s Rifle Team became ‘the man’ upon which the General’s new qualification program would succeed. Not many Officers in the Army have Advanced Marksmanship Training or National Championship competitive shooting experience in their 201 Personnel Files.

As a brand-new First Lieutenant, Michael Patrick O’Neil not only had to set up an 8th Army Wide Marksmanship Program he also had to set up a Marksmanship Training Unit where 60 men would be sent to learn how to shoot and train other’s how to shoot when they went back to their Units.

Lieutenant O’Neil started from scratch with only a directive and a Four-Star General’s Orders, but he was one Officer who already had learned a lot about the way things really operated in South Korea. Lieutenant O’Neil had just 10 days to get things set up and cover a lot of ground in a very big hurry. Not only did he have 60 men coming to a location yet to be determined, he had to find a way to support them. These 60 men would require all the normal needs of troops in any Unit as well as find a Rifle Range close to the same location.

With everything else going on in South Korea this was no easy task for a First Lieutenant as he had to coordinate and gain the cooperation of every Division and Brigade Commander in South Korea before he could assure the Commanding General of 8th Army that all his units were complying with the General’s new Orders.

There had been a major International Incident with the capture of the American Spy Ship the USS PUEBLE and the North Koreans had sent a Death Squad that was stopped on the front lawn of the South Korean President. The North Koreans were encouraged by the Leaders of the Communist Nations Leaders to increase activities along the DMZ to force the United States to reduce its Military efforts in South Vietnam.

The urgency of Lieutenant O’Neil’s mission had become top priority and based upon his accomplishments as a Second Lieutenant and the Commander of a HAWK Missile Battery he was apparently the only man who knew how to do it. Lieutenant O’Neil had assumed Command of a dysfunctional and none operational HAWK Unit in the middle of MIG Alley which was critical to the Air Defense of South Korea. In less than 40 days the HAWK Battery was fully Combat Ready and it just passed the 8th Army IG’s Re-inspection with the highest score in the Battalion when O’Neil was pulled out to run this marksmanship training unit.

Lieutenant O’Neil was fortunate to have been given a Company Clerk who was the honor graduate fresh out of Administration School. He would have an old NCO E-7 Sergeant who had a bad back and could no longer push the Nike Hercules Missiles around and one Driver-Mechanic by the name of Kelly O’Conner. He was from Flint Michigan where anything automotive had been in his blood since the day he was born. Corporal O’Conner was a natural mechanic who could build and fix anything on wheels. He could take any vehicle and make it dance beyond anyone’s imagination especially the original designers who made the vehicle to the US Army’s specifications.

The current 3/4 Ton Truck which he was driving Lieutenant O’Neil around in, had been bored and stroked to racecar specifications. Its manifold had been modified to take three souped-up jeep carburetors which were progressively linked. When the gas pedal was pushed down all the way significantly more gas was poured into the engine, producing an amazing amount of horsepower and torque to the wheels. It performed so well it could have easily competed as a National Level Dragster.

The transmission was a thing of invention and precision based upon Kelly’s own design with six forward gears linked up to a corresponding set of rear axle gears. This was a master stroke of speed producing machinery. Many of these improvements and modifications would have been welcomed by any of the Major Automobile manufactures. To say this truck could move fast was to clearly understate the obvious.

Kelly had also reworked the entire suspension system adding shock absorbers and springs as well as torque bars to add stability and controlled balance where the faster the truck moved the tighter it hugged the ground. It had a maneuvering advantage no other vehicle in Korea or anywhere else in the World ever had. Yet it looked just like any other US Army 3/4 Ton Truck with a spit shined polished look that would have impressed any Parade Marshall or Motor Pool Officer.

Just how long Kelly had this truck was open to some speculation as he just seemed to come with it when he reported to the Lieutenant. Where it came from had never been discussed and the only thing Lieutenant O’Neil asked of him was to get him to where he had to be without killing him. Lieutenant O’Neil soon discovered he did not want to know what was under the hood or what had been done to this truck so he could honestly claim ignorance if the matter ever came up. Lieutenant O’Neil knew the truck was hot in more ways than one, as the Unit identification numbers kept changing.

O'Neil have been the Motor Pool Officer at a HAWK Missile Unit when he first came to Korea and he had to know what documents each Vehicle was required to have when it was on the road. The Log Books had to reflect the correct Registration Numbers along with the Unit Identification Numbers painted on the front and back bumpers. Lieutenant O’Neil only asked Kelly to insure the Truck’s Log Books be up to date and have a Dispatch Slip signed before leaving the Compound each day. Lieutenant O’Neil of course signed the Dispatch Slip as the Commander and the Motor Officer.

Kelly seemed to have a ‘friend’ anywhere and everywhere they went in South Korea. Lieutenant O’Neil knew he needed three Duce and a half’s 6 X 6 trucks to carry the 60 men he would be training. Three new Multi-fuel 2.5 Ton Trucks had found their way into the 8th Army’s Headquarters Company’s Motor Pool with the Advanced Marksmanship Unit’s Numbers already on them.

These Vehicles had been placed on Restrictive Use for Special Delivery to selective Units within South Korea, yet the AMU already had theirs when they did not even have a Table of Organization and Equipment (TO&E) that authorized the Unit to have them. No one asked where they came from or what authorization the AMU had used to acquire them in the first place. These trucks were acquired when Kelly and two of his friends went to the Army Depot when a convoy of these Trucks were being made up for Delivery to the Designated Units. Three additional Trucks formed up behind the Convoy and when it turned right, Kelly and his two friends turned left and the Trucks disappeared from the Army’s inventory as if they never existed. There just was no other way of getting any type of 2.5 Ton Truck as every Unit in South Korea did not have their full TO&E requirements.

Kelly had delivered the impossible. Sometimes a Commander just needs to turn his head so the task and the mission can be accomplished. In this case, it was the Commanding General of 8th Army and Lieutenant O’Neil. That did not mean this property was unaccountable or lost to the Army. O’Neil was just using it and he needed to account for everything just as any other Unit Commander did.

Lieutenant O’Neil created Property Books for the AMU just as he had learned to do when he was the Supply Officer in the HAWK Missile Unit and the three New Multi-fuel 2.5 Ton trucks were listed on the correct Property Book Page as (3) Authorized and (3) In Inventory. The only thing missing on the First Page of the AMU’s Property Books was the TO&E Account number as there was none. Otherwise, this Property Book would have passed the most detailed inspection.

The AMU picked up a Shop Van with all the necessary machines O’Neil needed to rebuild the Rifles the 60 men would be bringing with them for their 10 days of training. Lieutenant O’Neil believed he could not train someone to shoot if his Rifle would not perform to its potential.

O’Neil also knew someday someone might come knocking at his door looking for something he had acquired for the AMU and the Army may want it back. His only defense would be his detailed accountability of every piece of property the AMU had. So far no one came looking for the Shop Van or the three 2.5 Ton Trucks and no one asked how he planned to move his men.

Thank you, Sir. Joe responded with a raise in his voice as if by speaking louder it would somehow give him more authority as he said. The Compound is on Amber Alert Status and because of all the activities on the DMZ the General has established new security procedures.

Okay Chief. Kelly responded after reading the MP’s name tag and believing him to being an Indian which he looked as if he was and therefore should be called a Chief. Kelly’s comment could be taken two ways either as a racial slur or the way Kelly had said it could be more like an elevation of respect.

What about the Vill? Kelly asked meaning what type of restrictions were being enforced locally and what to look out for.

Curfew is 2300 hours. No over nights and don’t get caught out-side the wire for any reason. Blackmoon responded which was to say if you planned to shack-up stay inside and don’t cause any trouble so the MP Patrols will not be called.

Got Yeah. Kelly nodded and smiled but before he let out the clutch he asked. Say what kind-a name is ‘Blackmoon’ are you some type of an Indian or something?

The full Lakota Sioux blood within him would have boiled over at the words ‘or something’ if there had not been an Officer sitting in the passenger seat and if an Army Sedan had not pulled up behind the AMU 3/4 Ton truck. Joe had become distracted by Kelly’s comment and the car had pulled up too close behind the Army Truck for Blackmoon to see the Bumper or any Commander’s flags. Whoever was in that Car would most assuredly out rank this First Lieutenant and he was not finished with this ¾ Ton Truck Driver. Pull off to the side. Joe ordered Kelly so he could deal with the Sedan.

Joe was lucky he Ordered the 3/4 Ton Truck to pull over as the New Division Commander was in the Sedan and he could see the Two Stars on his Command Flag. As Blackmoon saluted the General and he was glad he had not delayed his entry while he dealt with the 3/4 Ton Truck and its driver.

Once the General’s Sedan had been passed through the Gate, Blackmoon walked over to the 3/4 Tom Truck whose engine continued to bubble and perk as if it only needed the slightest reason to be turned loose and run down the road.

Your Driver’s License and Dispatch Please? Joe asked.

Kelly promptly produced the Vehicle’s Log Book that had the signed Dispatch Form clipped inside. Joe looked at the Log Book and signed Dispatch Form, which was properly dated and reflected the correct Registration Numbers as well as the Unit Designation.

Your Military ID Card please? Joe asked.

Kelly looked at Lieutenant O'Neil to deal with a possible problem in his Vehicle’s Log Book and O’Neil sat-up straighter become more concern himself. What’s problem, Corporal? Lieutenant O’Neil asked.

I’m not sure, Sir. Corporal Blackmoon responded as he was thinking that something did not seem right for some reason. "May see your Identification Card, Sir?

Lieutenant O’Neil pulled out this wallet and handed his ID Card to the MP. Then he reached for his Dog Tag chain and pulled it out along with the Special Identification Card. Maybe you should look at this before you get too carried away, Corporal. Lieutenant O’Neil said and motioned the MP to come around to his side of the Vehicle.

Joe walked around the 3/4 Ton Truck with even more suspicion, although he had no idea why he should be even questioning this Officer and this Vehicle. Maybe it was the way the truck’s engine sounded as it surely did not sound like any Army 3/4 Ton Truck, he ever heard before. The Lieutenant was holding the Special ID card at the end of the Dog Tag chain so the MP could read it.

Corporal Blackmoon experience one of the few shocks of his life. The ID Card with the Lieutenant’s picture on it was signed by General Bonesteel himself. Such cards were rumored to exist but no one ever seen one as it was called a God Pass. The rumor further went that one did not fuck with anyone who carried one. Joe quickly forgot about the hopped-up 3/4 Ton as he noticed the 8th Army Commanding General’s Radio call sign and his land line Phone Number if anyone wanted to verify the holder of this Pass.

Blackmoon knew no one would call that number unless it was a matter of life or death. Not knowing what else to do Joe did what seemed to be natural. He took a step back saluted and said. Very Good Sir, please proceed carefully. The words came out cool and calm as he surely did not feel cool and calm and he would not be able to settled his nerves down for the rest of the night.

As soon as Joe could be relieved from Duty he changed into his Off-Duty uniform and found himself at the NCO Club having some Whiteman’s brew. He knew a few beers would eventually turn him into just what he feared he would become, one wild Indian. He could not help but feel he had really fucked up and he could not tell anyone about the Lieutenant with the God Pass without violating some damned Rules and Regulations that dealt with it. Having seen it he knew it was no longer a rumor and he was sure he would not be reporting it to someone as the shit would roll downhill where he was at on the bottom.

Blackmoon found a quiet table in the corner with the thought of drinking out of the White man’s way, would save him from any trouble with them. All he wanted to do was listen to a Korean Live Band that would be putting on a show tonight. Although the Korean’s could hardly speak a word of English, they could parrot the words to the latest songs from the good old US of A.

Every Wednesday Night the NCO Club had a special Show for the GI’s. These shows would help take their minds off, of being 12,000 miles from home and the 40,000 North Koreans who were making war noises on the other side of the DMZ.

Blackmoon remembered someone saying this was a good show with several good-looking slant eyed singers in skimpy costumes. Good-looking here in Korea meant the girls had some boobs to shake at the Troops along with other suggestive moves. Blackmoon had a good view of the stage, even if it was off to the side. As the first swallows of his beer settled in his stomach he was already feeling better and thought he had over reacted to the situation with the 3/4 Ton Truck.

Maybe nothing would happen as he was only doing his normal job. Then he realized he did not find out where this Officer was going and he had not called his boss to tell him about the unusual VIP visitor. Yes, he should have called and reported that Lieutenant was a Special VIP visitor as anyone with a God Pass surely would be.

While he was convincing himself of the righteousness of his actions, a group of GI’s from the Motor Pool decided to take over the other chairs at his table. They were polite at first when only three of them sat down, but as more and more chairs were pulled up to the table their politeness disappeared. Several members of the group had been drinking significantly more and longer than Blackmoon. They seemed to recall that Joe was one of them ‘hot shot’ MP’s who were out to get the Motor Pool Drivers in some chicken shit offense.

Blackmoon unfortunately had written up two of these guys last week for having an improperly Dispatched Vehicle. One vehicle had been denied departure due to faulty lights which lead to the discovery the Driver did not have a current Operator’s License. This lead to a second violation as the man should have never been allowed to drive the truck if the Dispatcher had done his job. The lack of a Driver’s License when someone was working in the Motor Pool was an unacceptable as the Motor Pool was the issuing authority for Driver’s Licenses in the Army. It would be like a sending an Infantryman into Battle without a rifle.

As the beer flowed and the Show got Hot the aggressive actions of the Motor Pool GIs at the table had become even more blatant. Blackmoon had not finished his first beer and yet he was being shoved and pushed away from his table by the growing number of Motor Pool GI’s. The Motor Pool Sergeant who had been embarrassed by not having his Military Driver’s License was becoming openly aggressive and hostile.

Blackmoon’s higher tolerance of the white man was based upon a tuff skin he had developed while growing up, but this was getting beyond any level upon which he could respect himself. He knew the table was not worth fighting over even though it had been his table to begin with. He could feel his Indian Blood coming close to the boiling point with all the insults and verbal abuse. Luckily, he was about to stand up when his chair was pulled out from underneath him so he did not fall-down. But his luck did not save him from a fist that found his jaw sending him on his ass and setting off the explosion of hundreds of years of Indian warrior rage. He hardly touched the floor before leaping back on his feet delivering several solid punches of his own.

Although he was out numbered 12 to one it no longer mattered. He would take on his old enemies and insure his own place among the long line of brave warriors who had fought to the death against even greater odds. Death at this point was no longer a question as upholding his honor was more important.

He landed several quick and effective punches on those who had drank too much beer. The ruckus took the Spotlight away from the Show. The Korean Band members did not know what to do, as the fight seemed to be growing larger and larger around one small man who stood in the middle of it all.

From the outside looking in, one could see the backs of several large men swinging their arms and legs as if they were all trying to get at a Soccer Ball dropped in their mitts. Every now and then an opening would occur between these large men and someone would be tossed out between them to lay motionless on the floor.

One advantage Blackmoon had was the fact he was now backed into a corner. Although he could not get out, only a few of the Motor Poll Guys could hit him. What might otherwise appear to be a massacre was really a fight between Blackmoon and two or three other guys. As a Lakota Sioux warrior, he might have considered these reduced odds as being unfair to his enemies.

Unfortunately fights like this become like striking matches in a Fuel Dump, as one spark can set off the whole place. This fight was no different as friends started to fight with each other and Corporal O’Conner found himself ducking and swinging with the best of them. He loved a good fight just like his Irish ancestors but usually he like to pick his own fight on his own terms, which meant only when he was ready and wanted to fight.

He had been enjoying the show and now he was just pissed at anyone who came close enough to hit. He also had his own strategies when it came to bar room brawls. First, you get under a strong table. If that was not possible, you found the closest door. If that was not available, you found a good corner to fight from. Then if you could find someone you could get your back up against, you could fight off the bastards together. Kelly was being hit and pushed and hit again and then he felt his back against someone his own sized. Without even thinking he accepted man behind him as he was protecting his back, while the man was protecting his.

Several times when he looked out of the corner of his undamaged left eye, he saw the man behind him throw a lightening punch into someone’s face. This time that fist had connected with a big man’s jaw and the big man folded like a cheap suit and caused the others to trip over him.

After delivering that blow, the man behind him nodded with a smile and a gleam of satisfaction when Kelly grinned back at him. Kelly thought the man looked familiar but could not place him and he did not have much time to think about it.

Blackmoon had found himself with his back covered so he only faced one or two men at a time while the rest of them were piling up on the floor around them. Just when the fight started looking fair, the sharp shrills of the Military Police whistles pierced the air within the NCO Club. They came in swinging their nightsticks to end the fight before anyone got seriously hurt.

Like all men from the same Unit, the MP’s were just like most Cops on the streets they stuck together against all the others. Blackmoon was immediately pulled to the side and he was separated from the rest of the crowd. One MP handed Blackmoon his MP’s Helmet and another MP gave Blackmoon his ON DUTY Armlet for his shoulder. Now for all intensive, purposes Blackmoon was part of the MP Detachment called to break up the fight in the NCO Club.

Once he had made this transformation, Blackmoon looked for his warrior brother who had come to protect his back during the fight. Off to the end of the room Kelly was being lined up with all the rest of the brawlers who had been fighting in the corner around the table he had been sitting at before the fight began.

Blackmoon made his move before the dust settled and the noses could be counted. He reached the Corporal that had helped him and Blackmoon jerked him out of line leading him out the back door of the NCO Club. Kelly did not know what to expect, as he had not seen where this MP had come from. Kelly knew he had not started the fight and he had tried to keep out of it but that had not worked. He had made it into a corner of the NCO Club and someone was covering back during the fight so he did not get his brains beaten out. They had protected each other during the fight but he lost contact with his friend when the MPs arrived in force. Kelly hoped his friend was not hurt as he never saw him go down. But then there was a lot of things going on in that fight and he could not keep up with everything.

As Kelly was being pulled by this MP, Kelly suddenly thought about how Lieutenant O’Neil might react to his involvement in this NCO Club fight. The Lieutenant seemed to be an all right guy, but who really knew when it came to Officers. Kelly was thinking he had to make his move soon if he was to escape the situation where his Lieutenant would be embarrassed by his actions.

Kelly did not want to involve the 8th Army Marksmanship Unit or create any additional problems for the Lieutenant who was already running like a dog to get this job done. The thought crossed Kelly’s mind that he would just belt this MP once they got outside and then run like hell until he got away. The way this MP was holding him and pulling him, he did not seem to have much of a choice in the direction he was going. Kelly remembered what one of his First Sergeants had told him "no good deed ever goes unpunished’ and now he was in for it.

He had tried to stay out of the fight and ended up helping the poor bastard that everyone seemed to be after. Now he was going to be hauled away as one of the trouble makers and there would be no end to the problems as his Lieutenant would blame him for regardless of what his real intentions had been. He really was trying to behave himself, have a few beers and enjoy the Korean Show Girls.

Do you have your hat? The MP asked him.

What? Kelly asked as he could not believe the question that he had been asked.

Do you have your hat? The MP stated again.

Kelly looked in the eyes peering out from underneath the MP’s Helmet and the right one looked familiar for some reason as it looked like the guy’s eye he had backed up against during the fight.

Aha, yes I do. Kelly managed to say and he pulled out his ‘cunt hat’ he had folded over his belt where he had tucked it when he came into the NCO Club.

Good. Put it on and walk slowly out of here. The MP told him and then smiled. It was that smile that Kelly had seen when his back was up against the same man in the NCO Club just after he had decked a guy. It was the Main Gate MP who had stopped them when they drove in earlier.

Kelly also remembered the MP was about to give the Lieutenant a hard time until the Lieutenant showed him the Special Pass which cause the Indian MP to almost turn white. Thanks man, I owe you one. Kelly said as he made a two-finger salute and returned the smile. Kelly disappeared into the night. There were times like this when no one should not wait around. You just got your shit together and got the hell out of Dodge.

Kelly made it back to the NCO Transit Barracks. He quickly took a shower and then he tucked himself into bed before the first of the rowdy boys were brought back by the MPs. Kelly could almost see the false halo over his head as he lay in his bunk as if he had been a good boy and had gone to bed early. But as he tried to relax his ribs hurt where he had taken a few punches he had not been able to block well enough. The point of his jaw felt like it had been hit by a hammer. He could only hope his bruises would not show tomorrow, as it would be difficult to explain in the morning even to a reasonable Lieutenant like O’Neil.

Regardless Kelly felt he had been extremely lucky in getting out of that mess at the NCO Club. It would be far better to explain a few bruises and some skinned knuckles than to have his Lieutenant come down to the Brig and bail him out. His Lieutenant did not need that kind of shit with everything he was trying to do with only a few days he had left to get it done.

Blackmoon found himself a little worse for wear but otherwise Okay. His left eye had not swollen up as much as he thought it might and his knuckles were barely skinned as they had been toughened in so many fights he could no longer remember. His head hurt but not as bad as it would have been from the normal hangover he would have gotten if he had continued to drink beer last night, so he was grateful.

Blackmoon also knew the outcome of last night’s brawl could have been significantly worse if it had not been for that Corporal who drove that ‘hot rod’ 3/4 Ton Truck into the compound last night. Had he not stepped in to cover his back his odds would have been too overwhelming to predict a favorable outcome.

Blackmoon did not need to report for duty until 1300 hours so he settled back in his bunk with thoughts of getting a few extra winks. But as usual when you can take some extra time to sleep, there was just too much going on in the barracks and the noise level seemed to be louder than normal.

He finally gave up, took a shower and then made it to the Mess Hall, just before the doors closed. Blackmoon was never a big eater, but they were serving real eggs today and one of his old friends was on the serving line, so he got all the eggs he wanted. With black coffee and toast he headed for one of the back tables, where many of the other MP’s tended to gather when he noticed the familiar face of the Corporal who had helped him out last night.

Do you mind if I join you? He asked as he approached.

Be my guest. The Corporal said before looking up to see who spoke. Hay it looks like we are living in a really small world. O'Conner continued as he recognized the fellow who had gotten him out of the jam in the NCO Club. Aren’t you the guy who’s been following me around since I got here? He grinned.

Setting his tray down Blackmoon took a seat and said with a straight face. No but I did want to look you up for helping me out last night.

I'm not sure who was helping out who last night. Kelly responded. You sure were a class act with that MP switch-a rue. It was a great magic act of ‘now you see me and now you don’t’ and I sure do appreciate how you got me out of that mess last night. No sir I will not forget that, my friend.

One good turn deserves another, don't you think? Blackmoon asked.

Hum. Kelly responded with a mouth full of eggs. The two men ate silently for several minutes, not sure just what to say.

That truck you were running sure sounded pretty ‘hot. Blackmoon changed the subject. Blackmoon had been a fair shade tree mechanic himself and could hardly miss the sound of the engine in that 3/4 Ton Truck. He now realized why he had pulled the truck over. They had not done anything wrong but he wanted to look at what was under that hood to see if what he thought he was hearing were true. No other 3/4 Ton Truck he had ever heard while he was in the Army came close to sounding like that one.

Yeah, well I did a little tune up on her. O’Conner responded as he sipped his coffee.

That baby sounded like more than just a little tune up. Blackmoon concluded as if to tell Kelly he knew more about what a 3/4 Ton Truck should sound like.

Well you are right. I did do a little more than just a tune up. Kelly admitted hoping to drop the subject. He had just reminded himself that across the table sat an MP who was smarter than the average guy who thought he knew something about engines.

What did you do drop a 327 Cube with a four-barreled carburetor in it? Blackmoon asked with a straight face.

Well not exactly. Kelly lowered his voice and looked around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear him. I bored her out and modified the manifold to take three jeep carburetors with progressive linkage. She’ll do 80 in a heartbeat and out run anything you MP’s got in Korea. Kelly added.

Hum. Blackmoon seemed to be satisfied as he was chewing some toast with the eggs he had already shoveled into his mouth. Once he had swallowed, he continued. So, what are you and the Lieutenant doing up here? He asked before he remembered the God Pass the Lieutenant had shown him. You were not to question the barer of that pass or impede him in any way, and you were expected to prove any assistance he required.

That’s no big secret. Kelly explained how the Lieutenant was running all over South Korea to coordinate the activities of the 8th Army’s Marksmanship Training Unit the General wanted like yesterday. The Lieutenant was now most likely providing the Division Commander, his staff and any of the subordinate Commanders with a briefing of the