Night Train

In late of 1967, I was given a break. I was told that I had been in the bush long enough to be able to transfer to base camp. I was ready to get some of the good living at base camp in An Khe. My Colonel told me that they had an opening in Special Services if I wanted it.

It took me all of 2 seconds to accept. Hell, handing out ping-pong balls and a bed to sleep in at night, cold beer, hot showers and clean cloths? Lead me to it. I went in on a chopper and landed at the Golf Course (An Khe air field) and smiled all the way to Division HQ.

Upon arrival, I reported to the Assistant Division Commander, a bird Colonel. Strange how I never suspected a thing. He told me to go down the hall and report to S-2, which I did. Upon getting to S-2, I had this uneasy feeling, why S-2? Oh well, handing out ping-pong balls and swim trunks was o.k. with me.

I was told that I should get a shower, clean clothes, and would be escorted to a place to sleep and then to the Officers Club. I did these in a kinda reverse order but got them done anyway. Next morning I was awakened by a Sergeant Major and told that I was to report back to S-2. Now I was a little suspicious, S-2, ping-pong balls?

Because I had a Top Secret Crypto security clearance and had attended the Jungle Operations School in Panama, I would be in Special Services. O.K. But not with ping-pong balls. I was to be assigned to Special Services as an American Advisor to allied troops. Now I was getting the picture.

I won’t go into specific missions but several missions were to make a certain village mayor or chief “friendly.” They always were when we left.

I worked with Australians, Turks, Koreans, South Vietnamese (ARVN) and others, always with an interpreter except when with the Australians and sometimes I could have used one when with them.

I would go with usually a squad size element and the missions would vary like I said but the person we were to convince to be friendly always was when we left.

After a couple of months of this duty with little or no break, I was tired and awfully sleepy one night after one of these missions while in the middle of the jungle and waiting for choppers to pick us up. I was able to get some sleep.

No sooner had I laid my head down and was asleep than a strange noise could be heard: a train whistle, yes a train whistle. I sat up and the headlight of the train hit me right in the eyes. Now, a train in the middle of the jungle with no rails is strange right? The light was so bright that we were fully exposed, we all just watched as this train came right by us.

As it did I could see the engineer and the fireman plain as day, but they weren’t ordinary they were half skeleton, flesh hanging off of them and ragged uniforms; they paid us no mind and kept on moving slowly by. 

Behind the engine was a passenger car and at every window was one of my men who had been killed, looking at me, they too were half skeleton with flesh hanging from different parts of their bodies.

I was scared, really scared. The last car had a platform and on the platform was the biggest shock of all. My friend and mentor, 1^st Lt. Ervin “Jake” Burns was standing on the platform waving a lantern.

I yelled and screamed for the train to stop but it kept moving slowly along.

Suddenly, from nowhere comes, “Wake up Lt., wake up. It’s daylight, time to go.”

It was a dream; a strange dream, and I have had the same dream many times since then, always with “Jake” standing on the last platform.

The dream is a dream; the story is true.

©DAVID RAY ALEXANDER, SR.