American Gulag by E. C. Patterson

Prologue (2001): Ask Me - I'll Tell

The stage is set for a lecture. There’s a podium stage left with a sign on the front reading "Gay & Lesbian Information Lecture Series". The rest of the set is dark, but Act One is set to start when lit.

OFF STAGE ANNOUNCER

Ladies and Gentlemen, a round of applause for our keynote speaker, Dr. Winslow Gibbs, author of "A Question of Coming Out", "How to Make your Gay Relationships Work," "Gays and Lesbians in the Workplace: An Equal Right Manual," and most recently "The Army: Ask me - I’ll Tell." A round of applause please.

If the theatre audience is dense and does not applaud, canned applause should stand in, on the ready.

Enter Winslow Gibbs. He wears a suit and tie and holds his notes. He is 54 years old. He goes to the podium, adjusts the mike and clears his throat.

DR. WINSLOW

Thank you ladies and gentlemen. When I was asked by the Gay & Lesbian Alliance to speak to you today, I wasn’t sure which topic would be best to cover. Not many Gay folk care about war stories or the military subject, except from our legal rights point of view. I thought that maybe some tips on coming out or keeping the marriage together would be better suited. But I was told by Fitz Larsen, that there was such a misconception regarding the Gays in the Military subject, that this was the topic of choice.

So, I’ll begin by saying that the current policy of "Don’t Ask - Don’t tell," is an advance on the older solutions. I can say that, because I have experienced the older solutions first hand. Now don’t take this the wrong way. I said it is an improvement, but there’s no substitute to full, equal rights. That’s the best solution one can provide. After all, the military is a microcosm of life itself - and if 10 percent of us in real life are homosexual - then how can anyone think differently about the Army.

The military brass speaks of "morale" issues; that heterosexuals would feel unsafe to live and cavort with homosexuals in such confined space where performance is an issue. Yet, for 5 centuries we have been in one military organization or another - from the Gay battalions of Sparta to the battlegrounds of the Continental Army. After all, General Von Steuben was one of the gay boyz at Frederick the Great’s homosexual court. Von Steuben founded the Army that won the war for independence and started that little place known as West Point. And he ended up cozy at his life’s end with his male lover in a nice Washington, D.C. apartment.

Alexander Hamilton, aide-de-camp to General Washington, not only wrote the Federalist papers, but the most wonderful examples of love letter to John Laurens, fellow aide-de-camp. So, we did not need to look solely to our 20th century military establishment for the queer phenomena. Nonetheless, all major modern armies allow homosexuals to serve their country along side side their heterosexual compatriots, with 2 major exceptions - Turkey and the United States of America. And who knows - Turkey might come around or the term "major modern Army" could be redefined.

All I can say is, Ask Me - I’ll Tell! However, when I was in the Army - I would not have said a word. It was 1967 and the Vietnam war was raging. Homosexuals have never been treated with any consideration in the military, but when there’s a war, new rules and regulations kick-in. And after all, homosexuality undermines the cohesion of the battlefield - now there’s an oxymoron - and is therefore to be rooted out and stomped into oblivion. To be caught in the act during times of declared war, meant a swift tribunal and prison. Of course, if a heterosexual is engaged in sex - opposite sex cohabitation - why it merits an Article 15 - something akin to a parking ticket. What’s wrong with this picture - Prison - a Parking Ticket. That is sex vs. sex.

Now if you tell about your homosexuality today in the military, you can be discharged dishonorably. The day after this policy went into effect the Soldier of the Year came out of the closet. His performance was OUTstanding. He did the job. He was destined for military greatness - but he was Gay, so - his qualifications were cancelled. Dishonorable discharge!!

But when I was drafted there were a few differences. First of all, I was in the closet - but I knew. So, I checked "heterosexual" on the questionnaire.

(pause)

Yes, they asked then - as you came in the door for your physical, you were asked - Are you a homosexual? Many said yes - and were spared the whole army thing - but suffered the consequence - being "outed" to the rest of society and by Uncle Sam. The rest of us lied. As a friend of mine told me once, that there are Black lies and white lies - and we all know the difference. But then there’s the pink lie - when you’re force to lie and conceal who you are on the pain of punishment. All Gay folk know the pain of telling the pink lie. All of Jewish Europe knew the consequences of not concealing who they were either. It’s that same thing - the same syndrome - only since when did any American institution mime fascism and call it patriotism?

Imagine not being able to be who you are - not because you will receive society’s scorn and the possible loss of your loved ones’ love - but because you’ll be locked up and discharged in a manner where you might find employment impossible. Branded - like Cain - but not having committed Cain’s crime.

Well, the American Army in 1967 had devised a way during boot camp - basic training - to identify gay men and separate them into their own Special Training Company in the hopes that gay men will be gay men when clumped together; thus, dishonorable discharges and prison sentences galore. These Special Training Companies were designed for misfits - those who could not pass the physical training requirements or the written tests or just acted alternatively.

Not everyone who was unfit or illiterate was sent here. You had to be identified or suspected of being Gay - then, you were sent here for the other reasons. It was like a little prison zone - a gulag for misfits. Of course, what we really didn’t fit into was military life and particularly, heterosexual military life - the prevailing machismo that tough male, he-man Americans were the only stereotype acceptable to project into American culture. All else was counter-revolutionary. Ah, since when did a Communist concept become the hallmark of American patriotism. The odd fact is that most homosexuals in the Army slipped through this system - and many heterosexuals wound up in the Special Training Companies.

I was drafted in 1967 and was a whopping 275 pounds. I knew I was homosexual, and had even been experimenting, as I saw it - but by the time I was drafted I was firmly back in the closet - a chubby closet at that. Naturally, I checked the NO box to the Homosexual question - as I truly believed that whatever I was, I couldn’t really be that. Classic denial.

Well at that weight, I had no chance of actually passing the physical training. I managed to get down to 260 pounds - but it was torture. Finally, after a few weeks in basic training at Fort Gordon, Georgia, I was taken out of the general routine and was allowed to help out in the Quartermaster’s hut. I was relieved. No more PT - that is Physical Training. Then, I was told I would need to go through the confidence course. The thought of it was terrifying. The confidence course would have me doing low-crawls under barbed-wire while live ammunition was going off - bullets whizzing overhead and artillery canisters rumbling all around me.

So, as I thought about this, I gradually thought I was losing my mind. I walked around in a daze. Finally, they found me in the Quartermaster's Hut, huddled and crying. I was told I did not need to do the confidence course. And I recovered almost immediately. Two days later I was told to pack my gear - I was put in a jeep and delivered to the Special Training Company. I had seen members of the Special Training Company at the PX and at the Barber’s. They were always marched in formation - never allowed to talk to anyone else and were quarantined both in time and space. So, at 260 pounds I could have slipped through the cracks and been discharged as unfit - but because I cried, it was assumed that I was a compounded misfit -an overweight and a sissy. So I was destined for a different military fate. I was destined for the American Gulag.

(lights up on Act One’s set. The older Winslow Gibbs will narrate throughout the play, but will rarely be seen.)

   

Act I (1967): Welcome to the Gulag

Scene 1

There is only one major set for the play - the barracks at the Special Training Company. We are in Company B - on the second floor and can only see the 1st Squad’s bunks. There are four bunks, for 8 soldiers. They are set upstage against a row of windows. The ceiling is low and there’s metal ceiling lamps hanging at intervals. As the scenes change, the barracks are hidden by lighting and sometimes with cloth or wooden panels, ie. The mess hall scene.

The first squad is seen preparing for inspection as the lights come up. The first squad consists of Raymond "Buddy" Ormond, Geoffrey Chauncier (African-American), Bill Huey, Vincent Chola, Pablo Avilia, Nick Krasnar and Lenny Hertbie. Chauncier, Avilia and Chola are fairly, obviously effeminate. Krasnar is "campy", Huey is spaced out, Ormond is quiet and Hertbie has a very nasal Brooklyn accent.

CHAUNCIER

O, I’m never going to be ready for that anal "butch" man.

KRASNAR

Oh Miss Geoffrey, you’re always in a dither.

CHAUNCIER

Shut up.

HUEY

Has any one seen my socks?

CHOLA

They’re on your feet dear.

HUEY

Oh.

HERTBIE

Shut up. Gonvea is coming, with the Lieutenant.

They all quickly stand by their bunks in a line. Sergeant Gonvea enters.

GONVEA

Attenshun!!

Lieutenant Frakus enters. With him is Winslow Gibbs with his gear. The younger Gibbs is 21. He weights about 260 pounds, so the actor playing this part will need to be well padded and made up with prosthetics as he is required to be only 170 pounds in Act Two. Gonvea points to an empty bunk. Gibbs throws his stuff on it and falls in with the others.

FRAKUS

Gentlemen, this is Private Gibbs - a new member of your fraternity - your little country club. I’m sure you’ll make him feel at home here. We certainly will.

(puts on a white glove and proceeds to inspect footlockers and beds. Gonvea follows with a clipboard. He stops in front of Hertbie.

Sergeant Gonvea.

GONVEA

Yes sir!

FRAKUS

This soldier has a button missing on his fatigue shirt.

GONVEA

Private Hertbie! Explain why you got a God damn button missin’ on your fatigue.

HERTBIE

I didn’t see it, Sergeant!

GONVEA

Are you fucking blind? I know you’re dumb. How could you be missing a button and not know it. Tell the lieutenant, why!

HERTBIE

It . . it . . came back from the laundry that way.

GONVEA

That’s better. Why didn’t you report it?

FRAKUS

Enough. Mark a gig.

Frakus and Gonvea continue the inspection. Frakus bounces a quarter off Chauncier’s bed. It bounces high. He is pleased. He then takes the white glove to the windowsills and finds some dirt.

FRAKUS

Look at this Sergeant Gonvea. Do you call this clean?

GONVEA

No I don’t, sir.

FRAKUS

I call it filth.

GONVEA

I call it filth also, sir.

FRAKUS

No need to go further . . .

He notices Huey sort of swaying and goes to him.

Private are you ok?

HUEY

Just fine sir and how are you?

GONVEA

Private Huey - have you been drinking? (Sniffing his breath).

HUEY

No, Sergeant.

GONVEA

Don’t smell nothing.

FRAKUS

Keep an eye on him.

He goes over to Chola, who is very softly effeminate.

And how is the sweetheart of Delta Chi?

CHOLA

I’m wonderful today, sir. My gear’s in tip-top order.

FRAKUS

Wouldn’t be surprised, you little vixen. I bet they all make sure you pass inspection.

He holds Chola by the chin.

I have never felt anything so smooth as you Private Chola, but we’re not in the brothel now. This is the Army.

Chola turns his face away and looks downcast. Frakus moves slowly away and leaves. Gonvea follows him then quickly returns.

GONVEA

So you fuck-ups. I want every stick of furniture out of the barracks - I want this floor spit shines and every article ready for re-inspection by me by 18:00 hours.

(exits.)

The squad breaks rank grumbling. Lights out. Spot on the older Winslow Gibbs who is now the narrator.

WINSLOW

Inspection was part of the routine - the weekend routine. We all dreaded it. But the routine I dreaded most raised its head early Monday morning.

We did not do our physical training on the PT field like all other trainees. We went to large gymnasium on post. And we ran a mile to get there.

Scene 2

Spot come up on the 1st Squad running in formation. They are running in place assimilating crossing the field to the gym. They are all having problems keeping in time. Sergeant Gonvea and Sergeant Pike run with them.

GONVEA

Keep the pace. Keep in line, Gibbs. Don’t punk out me.

GIBBS

I can’t do it Sergeant. I can’t.

PIKE

Huey, Krasnar - you gentlemen better pick up the pace.

ORMOND

Gibbs, better keep up. Just don’t fall back.

GIBBS

I can’t breathe.

KRASNAR

You pussy, you better not fuck us up.

GIBBS

(breathless) I can’t. I can’t.

CHAUNCIER

Sweetcakes, don’t let us down.

GONVEA

You girls keep you mouth shut. Gibbs, pick up the pace.

Gibbs cannot. He slows down. The others exit while Gonvea stays with Gibbs. Finally stops completely out of breath.

GONVEA

Don’t stop, private. Don’t fucking think of stopping.

GIBBS

Sergeant, I can’t go further.

Gonvea circles Gibbs angrily.

GONVEA

On your knees Gibbs. On your knees.

Gibbs goes to his knees. Gonvea stands in front of him his crotch practically in Gibbs face.

When I say assume the position for you faggots, this is the natural one you should assume.

GIBBS

Sergeant, I’m not a faggot.

GONVEA

No, you’re not a faggot. You're just a pussy, sissy, fat, sloven pile of shit! You shouldn’t be in my army.

GIBBS

I was drafted, Sergeant.

GONVEA

Because your country needs you. But you didn’t have the good sense to tell them that you were a homo - so you must pay the price and become something your country does need.

GIBBS

Sergeant, you’re mistaken.

GONVEA

Me, mistaken. Remember, here I’m your daddy and your daddy is never mistaken. Never mistaken! Repeat after me.

Sergeant Gonvea, I am a useless piece of shit.

GIBBS

I can’t do that.

Gonvea hits him on the head, lightly.

Sergeant Gonvea, I’m a useless piece of shit!

GONVEA

I’m a fatboy and a faggot.

GIBBS

I’m a fatboy and . . .

GONVEA

Say it.

GIBBS

I’m a fatboy and a useless piece of shit.

Gonvea laughs.

GONVEA

Get up. Let’s run you to the gym.

Gibbs stands and follows Gonvea. Exit running.

(lights out) (spot on narrator)

WINSLOW

And the Gym was a never ending round of calisthenics. Then basketball. We were lined up and made to shoot baskets. If we made our shot, we got in line to shoot again. If not, you had to do four laps of the gym - which was a big, Big gym. Then, get on line for more shooting. That first day, and for many days after, I missed every shot and ran in that gym. Then it was back across the field for lunch.

Spot on squad

Scene 3

The squad is running in the opposite direction. They pass across the stage and exit stage left. Gibbs follows running considerably behind, with Gonvea behind him. Every time Gibbs falters, Gonvea pushes him. They both exit.

Lights up. The mess hall. Two tables set up. The squad has come through the line and bring their trays to the tables. Gibbs enters last and looks for a place to sit. Ormond signal him. He sits with him. Avilia and Krasnar are also at this table.

ORMOND

(looking at Gibbs very skimpy meal) What is that?

KRASNAR

Fat boys get different meals than us specimens of manhood.

GIBBS

I can’t live on this! Toast, cottage cheese, a hardboiled egg and an apple.

KRASNAR

Well, if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it.

ORMOND

Don’t pay attention to Krasnar. He’s always trying to get everyone’s goat.

KRASNAR

Fuck you, Ormond.

AVILIA

Behave yourself, Nick.

KRASNAR

For you dear, ok.

ORMOND

So, what’s your story, Gibbs? How did you even get into this man’s Army at that size?

GIBBS

I don’t know. I was surprised when they said I passed the physical - and I just couldn’t hack it in basic.

ORMOND

But still, that doesn’t get you here. Are you queer?

GIBBS

No.

KRASNAR

Shit you aren’t. He’s as queer as you are Ormond.

ORMOND

Shut the fuck up, Krasnar. Avilia, can’t you control your boyfriend there? I’m straight as an arrow. These fruits don’t bother me though. I’m from Altoona, Pennsylvania. I knew a couple of queers up there, and they ain’t so bad. In fact, I’m trying to get some kind of leave out of this place. My fiancée, Alice (gets his wallet open and shows a picture) - she’s just told me she’s pregnant. So I got to get home.

GIBBS

She’s a looker.

ORMOND

Fucking A.

GIBBS

I’m from Brooklyn.

ORMOND

Like Hertbie there. Hey Hertbie, Gibbs is from Brooklyn.

HERTBIE

Hey, Gibbs. I’m from Bensenhurst . . .

GIBBS

Flatbush!

HERTBIE

Great.

ORMOND

He’s a gardener or something. Where’s your Brooklyn accent?

GIBBS

Lost it in college.

ORMOND

How the hell did you get here if you were in college?

KRASNAR

A college man. Thinks he’s better than we are.

AVILIA

Shhh!

GIBBS

Well, I had a deferment. But I lost it because I took one credit less than the minimum - and they got me.

KRASNAR

Well, smart ass boy, now you here staring at a starvation diet and daily runs to the gym.

GIBBS

I don’t think I can take another run to the gym.

KRASNAR

Well, get used to it. Because after we finish here, we run back across that field and do some more. (laughs)

Gibbs starts to cry

ORMOND

Shut the fuck up Krasnar! (to Gibbs) Whatever you do, don’t let them see you cry. It goes worse for us.

Krasnar laughs harder.

(grabbing his knife and standing threatening) If you don’t shut that piehole, I slice your fucking lips off.

CHAUNCIER

(in a sustained whisper) Ormond! Sit down. If they see this we’ll be up all night scrubbing toilets and stoking coal stoves again. I can’t stand it anymore.

Ormond recovers from this behavior. Krasnar smirks.

ORMOND

(to Gibbs) Save your tears for the dark quiet hours at night. Meanwhile, eat this shit and hope we have a Mr. Dix run.

GIBBS

What’s that?

AVILIA

You’ll love that . . .it’s really daring.

ORMOND

Since we can’t leave the Company area, our free-time hours are limited to the barracks, the perimeter and the Company little gym.

GIBBS

There’s a gym on the Company grounds?

AVILIA

Yes, and useful too.

GIBBS

Who would use that after all day slogging across the fields to do push-ups?

AVILIA

There’s a place there to practice shooting hoops. Get it. Practice makes perfect. Get them hoop shots and no laps around the big ass gym.

GIBBS

Ah. Clever.

ORMOND

But once in a while, one of use gets brave to sneak out on a Mr. Dix run to bring the rest back Cheeseburgers, Fries and Shakes.

GIBBS

O what a dream.

AVILIA

We have a pulley set up off the back stairs. When the goodies are got they’re hoisted up the back way.

ORMOND

Only the last time we got the food, Sergeant Pike decided to do a barrack check.

AVILIA

We all hopped in bed and put our food under the covers until he left.

ORMOND

Only, Huey fell asleep with a strawberry milkshake. When we turned in linen that week and held up our sheets for a piss-the-bed check, Huey held up a sheet with a big red stain.

They all laugh.

ORMOND

I’m glad you’re laughing now. You may be in hell, but the residents are not so bad.

GIBBS

It’s like a prison.

ORMOND

Well the Army is like a prison for everyone, not just us.

GIBBS

But moreso us.

AVILIA

So, welcome to the Gulag, hon. FTA - you know - Fuck the Army.

KRASNAR

(to Avilia) Don’t flirt!

GIBBS

Thank you all - well, almost all.

AVILIA

Don’t mind Krasnar. He’s not even Gay. He’s just acting this way to get a discharge.

KRASNAR

Fuck you, dear. You’re my better half.

AVILIA

You certainly said that right!

Enter Gonvea.

GONVEA

Fall in for PT.

AVILIA

FTA - Fuck the Army.

The squad scrambles with their trays to the door. Gibbs slowly gets up with Ormond’s help. Gonvea watches as they leave. Then exits himself.

(lights down) (spot on narrator)

WINSLOW

The routine was never-ending. We did have some classes and a once a week 25-mile forced march. I hated that worst of all. They put this tall dude from Barrack C to lead the march. He would strut like a giant and we little unfit ants would scramble after him. But the end of day, I looked forward to talking to my squad buddies, except for Krasnar. I don’t know what it was with him. He was very critical. He could never be civil to me. But the others were amazing. Never did a group of people have such an impact on me in my life.

Scene 4

Lights come up. The barrack in evenings. The squad is in various poses and states of dress around their bunks. They are reading or writing or just chatting. Gibbs sits down next to Chauncier.

 

GIBBS

I am one big ache. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

CHAUNCIER

You - please. This girl has had it weeks ago. Let me tell you. I’m not used to such an ordeal. You may be suffering now, but nothing could compare with what I’ve been through. I mean, you were in school - and didn’t have a career as yet. You’ll finish all this crap and get back to preparing for life. I already had a career.

GIBBS

Really. What did you do?

CHAUNCIER

What did I do? I was in the Hotel industry - a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America.

 

 

GIBBS:

Really? A chef? And they drafted you?

CHAUNCIER

Hard to believe it. I am New York’s finest ice carver. You know, I carve those beautiful ice sculptures at the great banquets. I am held in the highest esteem in the ultimo culinary circles.

I plan the entire banquet and set chefs and staff in all directions like a commander in battle. Then, these hands turn the icy blocks into loving Swans and Hearts of Cold, Blue passion. I am an artiste, in the highest demand, from the Hotel Americana to the Waldorf. But now, I am missing from the scene. These hands rake leaves and paint walls. There has to be some place better than this.

GIBBS

I wish I knew a better place right now. But bed seems to be it.

CHAUNCIER

That’s not the least of it, hon. Little did I know I’d be the butt of an Army joke? I told them I am a homosexual, but they still drafted me. And once I was inducted, they wouldn’t believe me. They said I was trying to get out of my commitments. Then, to torture me, they sent me here. And my dainty little Alfred, my sweet understudy, who looked me lovingly in the eye as I left his side that morning, has now stopped writing. I’ll probably wind up with a Section 8. We’ll all wind up with Section 8s out of this place.

(sighs)

GIBBS

I can’t get a Section 8. It would ruin my life. My father was a war hero - and his father before him. I could never hold my head up with pride with a dishonorable discharge.

CHAUNCIER

Never mind the pride - how about a job. You’ll never get a good one with a Section 8 discharge. But if they’re going give us one, why torture us first - just bring it on, Mabel.

GIBBS

But you have a skill and you are in demand.

CHAUNCIER

You’re right. I would wait in the wings - just waiting for them to call me. "Mister Geoffrey, would you be so kind as to prepare the ice?" To be someone of importance - to be in demand. That’s something.

(in a reverie - then gets upset)

Cannot think of ice now - not without a man’s warm heart. There’s got to be a better way to live than to have one’s life stolen for a few years to do such painful things. It’s as if someone said, "Chauncier’s talent must be paid for - send him to prison for a time, so he knows what it is to loss such art." I was in demand in the highest circles. I planned the menu for a Kennedy banquet. I did! I sculptured a great green Ice shamrock for this affair. Imagine, green Ice! Is it criminal to be successful and love men - to be punished like this? There’s gotta be someplace better than this.

AVILIA

You’re not going to start singing Sweet Charity are you?

Gibbs gets up and goes over to Avilia, standing by his bunk.

Avilia is writing. He stops and looks up at Gibbs.

AVILIA

This letter is for my sister in San Diego. I am telling her that I’m fine and dandy. She wouldn’t understand that I fucked up so badly.

 

GIBBS

Fucked up so badly?

AVILIA

Yeah, badly. Didn’t you fuck up badly too. Me, I nearly got caught in bed having sex with another enlisted man.

GIBBS

Oh! Sorry to bother you.

Starts to go.

AVILIA

No wait. Don’t run away.

Gibbs nervously returns

I can’t help it. I nearly got caught with Private Moran - Morris Moran. I never heard of an Irishman with a first name like Morris. Morris Lipschitz or Morris Tittelbaum - but what kind of parent names their kid Mo Moran? Lucky for me we didn’t get caught red-handed or it would have been Leavenworth for both of us.

GIBBS

No shit.

AVILIA

But the cadre knew - they just had no proof. But Moran is a college boy. I’m the son of a migrant worker. So, while he is able to pass muster, I fail. So, I got gleaned for this place.

GIBBS

It’s not fair.

AVILIA

But, it’s not so bad. I know I’m the way they say - but I have never admitted it. That asshole Krasnar is using me to get his discharge - but I don’t even mind him. I can do most of the physical stuff - it’s just the damn written crap - but I’ll get better - then out of this place and on with the rest of this fucking Army shit - then back to my beloved San Diego.

GIBBS

Are you Krasnar’s . . . a well . . .

AVILIA

Lover? That’s rather personal for a guy who dislikes queers?

GIBBS

Never mind.

AVILIA

No. Krasnar wants out. I don’t even think he’s gay - you know - homosexual. But who can tell. This place had fucked up my gaydar.

Gibbs looks puzzled.

O never mind. Just let it pass. No Krasnar clings to me because he feels sure that he can be queer by association. But, I get along with everyone. I can even put up with Krasnar’s farting.

KRASNAR

I don’t fart.

HERTBIE

(reading a letter to his parents aloud. Hertbie has a heavy Brooklyn accent As he reads, Gibbs walks over - Hertbie is on the bottom bed of Gibbs’ bunk - Gibbs has the top) Dear Mom and Dad, I’ll be home soon and help you out in the nursery. You’ll miss me this Spring, with the flats and beds, but I’m sure cousin Richie can help out. I’m meeting great friends here in this Man’s Army - but they say I need to be smarter. Why didn’t you make me smarter? Because I’m not so smart, they say I need to work harder and be like everyone else - smart!

GIBBS

Do you always read your letters aloud?

HERTBIE

Not smart eh? I should really be more private - well I guess I am a private (laughs at his own joke). But Gibbs. We’re both from Brooklyn, so we need to stick together. Especially around these homos - you know, two guys from Brooklyn. And you were in College.

GIBBS

Brooklyn College.

HERTBIE

All right! Great going!

(pause)

Do you think maybe you could help me learn all this crap?

GIBBS

What crap?

HERTBIE

The General Orders and stuff. I can never get it right. I’m not smart like I should be. They tell me I’m sorta dumb. But I do know things. Not real important things - but things.

GIBBS

Like what?

HERTBIE

Oh, like rows of pansies - happy faces in the sun - and rose buds, the little Cinderellas and the big floppy Peace roses - they’re coming up without me there. I love the smell of shitty soil on my hands and between my fingers. It’s so sweet to know that my touch brings forth all those lovely blooms. But I can’t see them here. They call to me. They say, "Lenny, we need you to prune us and fertilize our roots and clean our leaves free of aphids."

I once grew a peony so big it made the neighbors laugh and cry. It was like a pink cabbage. I even had Ethel, next door give me a kiss and ask if I could give her one just like it. But, they’re not easy to grow to that size and they only bloom once a year. And that was last year - and I’m not there this year to tend to my peony bushes - so Ethel will need to wait. I wish I was smarter. Then I could be there now, tending my garden in the heart of Brooklyn.

GIBBS

You know quite a bit, Hertbie. Quite a bit. It may not be too useful here in the Army, but what do they know?

HERTBIE

Yeah, what do they know? Wouldn’t it be funny if it turned out I was smarter than them. Wouldn’t it be funny?

GIBBS

It would be real fucking funny.

Hertbie goes back to his letter. Gibbs sits on a footlocker. Ormond joins him.

ORMOND

Oh, it’s good to stretch out after one long fucking day.

GIBBS

You can say that again.

ORMOND

(opening his wallet and looking at Alice’s picture) It’s time to torture myself with her picture. Do you have a girl, Gibbs?

GIBBS

Not currently.

ORMOND

Oh. Whenever someone says "not currently" - they mean, I don’t - I want one and if I knew you were going to ask that question, I’d have been more prepared.

GIBBS

Are you saying -- what?