Winston Groom - Gump & Company

“I really feel sorry about this,” Mrs. Curran writes, “but there’s nothing else I can do. I’m sure you’ll come home soon, Forrest, and everything will be okay.”

Well, I feel pretty sorry for Mrs. Curran, too. She done all she could. But my heart don’t feel good that I can do anythin to help, even if I do get home in one piece. I mean, look at my record so far. Anyway, I am thinkin about all this when all of a sudden from out of the desert, a kind of whirlwind comes blowin up toward me. It whirled an blew under the clear desert stars, an then, before I knowed it, there was Jenny, shimmerin in the sand an wind. I am so glad to see her after all this time, I am about to bust.

“Well,” she says, “looks like you’ve done it again, huh?”

“Done what?”

“Got your ass in a sling. Aren’t you gonna go out an fight the A-rabs tomorrow?”

“Yup, that’s what the orders are.”

“What if something happens to you?”

“What happens, happens,” I said.

“And little Forrest?”

“I been thinkin about that.”

“Yeah, I know. But you don’t have any plan, do you?”

“Not yet. I gotta get outta this mess, first.”

“I know that, too. And I can’t tell you what’s gonna happen, cause it’s against the rules. But I will tell you one thing, though. Stick with Lieutenant Dan. And listen to him. Listen real carefully.”

“Oh, I will,” I says. “He is the best combat leader there is.”

“Well, just pay attention to him, okay?”

I nodded, an then Jenny sort of begun to disappear in the whirlwind. I wanted to call her back, but her face begun to fade, an she says somethin else that was very faint, but I heard it.

“That German girl—I like her.” Jenny’s voice is almost gone. “She’s got spirit, and a good heart...”

I tried to say somethin, but my words caught up in my throat, an then the whirlwind gone on its way, an I am left alone under the desert sky.

I ain’t never seen nothin like what I saw next dawn, an I hope I don’t ever see it again.

Far as the eye could see out in the desert, from horizon to horizon, our tanks an personnel carriers an mechanized guns is lined up in all directions. All the motors is runnin so’s the sound from half a million men an machines is like one big constant growl from a giant tiger. A mad giant tiger.

At daybreak the order is given to move forward an kick Saddamn Hussein’s A-rabs’ asses out of Kuwait. An that’s what we done.

Me an Sergeant Kranz, who has now been promoted to corporal, an Lieutenant Dan are in command of one of the tanks. Also, we has brought ole Sue along for good luck. Now, these tanks is not at all like the tanks we had in Vietnam, which were as simple to run as a tractor. But that was twenty-five years ago. Nosiree, these tanks look like the inside of a spaceship, with all sorts of computers an calculators an electrical stuff flashin an beepin. They even got air-conditionin.

We is in the first wave of attack, an afore long, we has spotted Saddamn Hussein’s army in front of us, cept they are goin backwards. Sergeant Kranz done fired a few rounds from our big gun an Lieutenant Dan done pushed the throttle forward to maximum speed. Seems like we is actually skimmin over the desert, an all around us ever tank has opened fire an pretty soon the whole land is alive with big explosions. The noise is frightful, an ole Sue’s got his fingers stuck in his ears.

“ Wahoooo! ” shouts Lieutenant Dan. “Lookit them bastards run!”

It was true. Seems like we is out in front of the whole pack. Ole Saddamn’s army is flyin off like a huge covey of quail, leavin everthin behind, vehicles, clothes, stolen cars an furniture from Kuwait. At one point we done crossed a big long bridge an just afore we got to the end of it, one of our own jet planes dives down an blows it in half. We got to the other end in the nick of time, afore the whole thing collapsed down into a gorge!

When I look back through the mirror, I can see we is well ahead of everbody an was about to get on the radio to ast for instructions, when a big ole sandstorm blowed up in the desert in front, an in no time, we was engulfed inside it. Then the radio went dead.

“You reckon we oughta stop an wait for somebody to tell us what to do?” I ast.

“Hell, no,” says Dan. “We got them bastids on the run—Let’s keep em there!”

So that’s what we did. We was in the sandstorm all day an most of the night. Couldn’t see two feet in any direction, or tell if it was night or day, but we kep on goin. Couple of times we passed stalled-out tanks of Saddamn Hussein’s army an refilled our fuel tanks from em.

“You know,” says Lieutenant Dan, “way I figger it, we’ve come nearly three hundred miles.”

Sergeant Kranz done looked at the map.

“If that is the case,” he says, “why, we oughta be damn near to Baghdad by now.”

Sure enough, just then the sandstorm let up an we come out to a bright sunshine. A sign on the road says Baghdad—10 kilometers.

We stopped for a minute an popped open the tank hatch an looked out. Sure enough, we can see Baghdad up ahead—a big ole white-lookin city with gold spires on the tops of buildins. But we don’t see nothin else all around.

“We must of outrunned our own line,” says Sergeant Kranz.

“I suppose we ought wait for them,” Dan says.

All of a sudden, ole Sue, whose natural eyesight is like binoculars, begun to chatter an wave his hands an point behind us.

“What’s that?” Sergeant Kranz ast.

Over the horizon, we could barely make out a bunch of vehicles in a line comin up behind us.

“It’s our tanks, finally,” says Lieutenant Dan.

“Hell it is!” hollers Sergeant Kranz. He has got out the field glasses an is starin at the line of vehicles.

“That’s the whole goddamn A-rab army!” he shouts. “We ain’t only outrunned our own army—we’ve outrunned theirs, too!”

“Well,” says Dan, “this is a fine kettle of fish. Looks like we is caught between the proverbial rock an the hard place.”

That is the understatement of the year, far as I’m concerned. Here is the entire A-rab army bearin down on us in one direction, an up ahead is where Saddamn Hussein hissef lives!

“Well, we gotta get some more gas anyhow,” Dan says. “I reckon we might as well go into town an find a fillin station.”

“What! Are you nuts?” shouts Sergeant Kranz.

“Well, what do you suggest?” Dan says. “We run outta gas, we walk. You rather walk, or ride in a tank?”

I reckon Dan’s got a point here. I mean, it probably ain’t gonna make no difference one way or the other how we are kilt, so we might as well get kilt ridin in our tank.

“What about you, Gump,” Sergeant Kranz asts, “you got a opinion?”

“I don’t give a shit,” I says. An that was the truth.

“Arright,” say Dan, “then let’s go to Baghdad an take in the sights.”

So that’s what we did.

Let me say this: Us bein in the city of Baghdad was about as welcome as a tankful of bastids at a family reunion.

People done seen us an run off screamin an hollerin, an some of them begun thowin rocks at us. We drove down a bunch of streets, lookin for some kind of fuel depot, an at one point Dan says we better stop an try to figger out some way to disguise ourselfs, or we will be in real trouble. We got out of the tank an looked around. The tank was so covered with dust it was barely recognizable, except for the American flag painted on the side, which showed through a little. Sergeant Kranz observes that it is too bad we ain’t got any mud on our tank treads now, cause we could use it to hide over the flag. Dan says that ain’t a bad idea, an sends me over to a ditch in the street to get some water for to make our own mud. Turns out, it ain’t water in the ditch, but sewage, which makes my job somewhat less than pleasant.