The Missing Popcorn

Written by Tom Fowler, Published on 11/25/2008, Re-published on 4/5/2010

Specialist Fourth Class (SP/4) Tom White had been in country for 10 months in February, 1970 and looked forward to rotating back to CONUS (the military’s term for Continental United States) in April. Tom, a U.S. Army combat engineer, had been through many experiences in those 10 months. In addition to the constant threat of Viet Cong guerillas and the capable and dangerous North Vietnamese Army, he had survived a serious bout of amoebic dysentery and a nasty case of ringworm, as well as the filthy living conditions and lack of sleep, which most field enlisted men suffered. Tom was tired and run down, but had weathered the worst that Vietnam had to offer.

One afternoon in late February, a box from his uncle arrived in company headquarters. In it, Tom found a large can of commercially packaged multi-flavored popcorn. He was delighted with the unexpected gift. He looked forward to eating the popcorn, but first, he had to go upstairs for guard duty.

The guard tower was on top of the semi-underground bunker his squad lived in, or hooch, as such quarters were called. The hooch sat right up on the perimeter of the base camp with the concertina fence barely 10 feet away from the half buried rear wall. Guard duty was split into two-hour shifts, beginning at 1900 hours (7:00 p.m.) and ending at 0700 hours (7:00 a.m.). Tonight, Tom was on from 1900 until 2100 hours.

Guard duty on this night was uneventful. From high in the guard tower, he could see everything in front of him and everything in back on his side of the base camp. During his shift, he saw Henson head out toward the NCO club on the other side of the compound. Henson had with him only the sidearm pistol he was allowed as a non-commissioned officer. Mac walked towards the recreation area, carrying a duffel bag of baseballs and bats used during pickup games. Locke, the last to leave, walked away from the squad’s area with his M-16 rifle, but Tom could not tell where he went. He lost sight of him when a rice farmer and his water buffalo got too close to the wire directly below him.

Tom’s relief arrived right at 2100 and Tom climbed down the ladder he had helped build several months before to enter the hooch. The tropical sun was just going down and he thought about how hot it could be in Vietnam at any time of day — even as late as midnight. But Tom’s focus turned quickly to the memory of the popcorn his Uncle Ross had sent. He planned to munch on it while writing a letter home.

Entering the hooch and walking to his bunk, Tom noticed the can of popcorn missing. He also noticed water on the floor. There were a few kernels of the cheese flavored scattered in the aisle. The hooch was unusually clean as there were no empty soft drink or beer cans lying around. He also saw his buddies, Mosier, Henson, Macnamara and Locke, huddled close to his bunk with sheepish expressions on their faces. He thought it odd that they were back in the hooch on a hot evening at 2100. Annoyed, he asked, “Come on! What have you guys done with my popcorn?”

Locke, the newest member of the squad, said simply, “I haven’t seen it.”

Macnamara answered calmly, “Last I saw it, it was by your bunk.”

Henson, Tom’s best friend, said nothing. And Mosier looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact with Tom altogether.

These fellows were all good friends and had been through a lot together. Tom did not believe they had been mean-spirited in taking his popcorn. One or all of them had given into the temptation of the moment, and had taken the opportunity to enjoy some stateside snack food. Tom White couldn’t blame them, and so, he was not angry. However, he did want to know the truth. The guys were being coy with him, and he realized this was now a game they were playing.

“OK, guys. If I figure this out, will the guilty one admit it?”

They men all grinned and agreed. Henson, with beer on his breath, belched, “Tom, it was only one of us that took your popcorn. He’s already been dressed down and will return what is left of it with an apology – after you figure out which of us took it, that is.”

Tom, smirking, began thinking out loud, “OK, then. I brought the package down here from the mail office just before evening chow. Then we all went to chow before I headed directly up to the guard tower. So, one of you took it while I was on guard duty.”

“So far, so good,” Macnamara replied.

“OK, Mac, what did you do after chow?”

“… Wrote a letter home, and then went to play ball with B squad.”

“Locke, how about you?”

“I went to the other side of the camp to watch the movie.”

There was always an outdoor movie, at night, down by the enlisted men’s and NCO clubs. Tom White did not think late night movies were a wise idea, and he was proven right a few weeks earlier when the Viet Cong zeroed in on the movie screen after dark, and dropped a dozen mortars into the assembled audience. Tom though it odd that Locke took his M-16 with him to the movie, but knew that, as the newest member of the squad, he was still nervous about being in a war zone. He said nothing about seeing him with his rifle. Instead, he asked, “What did you see?

Locke replied, Buena Sera, Mrs. Campbell.

White looked the new man over. He knew that Gina Lollobrigida starred in that film and was one of the G.I.’s favorites. He looked over to his good buddy Henson.

“Ron, how about you?”

Ron answered, “I had a couple of beers down at the club.”

Tom nodded, and turned to Dicky, “Mosier, what’s your story?”

“I went to the showers. I washed my clothes.”

Tom replied, “That’s it?”

Mosier answered, “That’s it.”

Tom looked at his guilty buddy. He smiled and the guilty buddy did, too. He asked modestly, “Well … did you eat it all?”