THE TUNNEL, THE KIDS, TWILIGHT, AND EVIL UNDER A VIETNAM SKY

The tunnel yielded a cache of weapons and two preadolescent girls. They were dirty, scared, and shivering, standing before us. Our orders dictated we did not take prisoners, but we had not sunk so far as to think of eliminating kids as our mandate.

Releasing the youngsters would represent revealing our presence. None of the crew objected to taking them along until we were far enough away so they could harm us, but it was a risk.

We met a detachment of South Vietnamese army regulars as we crossed the river. After brief introductions, the captain pointed to our captives. “We take them now. Our responsibility!”

It was the look in his eyes I’d seen before — no soul. I witnessed what the NVA did to their prisoners, especially to women. I did not save these girls to have them mistreated in the worst way.

We were six, and they were eight fully armed. I turned to Hercules. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re in for a fight if you say no, Boss.”

I remembered gazing up at the sky as I formulated my decision. Dusk began, and the heavens appeared as a pallet of orange, coral, magenta, blue and grey. I remember thinking, “How could such beauty look down on us when such evil lived below?”