Peace Sign

By Bridget Hayes

I.

Humming in thick humid skies, deafened by chopper blades mangling the air, your gaze falls downward. A first glimpse of a country you fought for, against, within. Because they told you to, because you signed up for it, because you wanted to fly. Sweat beading above your lip, streaming down your temples. Camera held to eye. Deformed mountains, burned jungle, war torn landforms. And then… Only sensical from above, a giant peace sign, bulldozed into the earth. Click. The shutter flickers. And in flutters just enough light to give hope to a future photograph. A giant circle with one long vertical line and two shorter lines coming out of it. Like the lower half of a stick figure. Peace. Plowed into the fields by a Camp Eagle soldier. Small groups of GI's protesting in-country and home-country. Brave and creative missions of a nonviolent kind. You barely believed it. Until now. Limbs dangling from the Huey, a strap swinging camera in the wind. Descending, toward the first sign of welcome to Camp Eagle. 

II.

With similar bravery you struggled, heart cleft in twain by galaxy sized questions, your courage camouflaged deep within you. You wrestled with purpose and consequence. Trained never to doubt, your indecision dominated, a force sometimes leading, sometimes dragging you through the jungles of your mind. But this time, in an act of admiration and inspiration, with honor, you held your breath and pressed the button. Peace captured. As the helicopter flew away with you and a secret inside your camera. A record of spinning paradoxes. Negatives of reverse contrast. Developed in the darkness. Printed in the dim red light. The peace sign slowly appears on paper with the seiche of red-thickened liquids. Pock marks of Vietnamese graves coming to life. Encircling this great symbol like a tight necklace of pearls. Did the horizon offer you its familiar fingerprints? Did the mountains send you messages of their lingering scents? Did it all suddenly come rushing back? Like you had never left?

III.

52 years later, I hold my breath. A digital peace sign appears in my search results. Camp Eagle toward the end of the Vietnam War. So different from what is left of the Camp Eagle of today. Shrunken to a small plot of tombs, rocks, bushes, and ghosts. Squished between factories, concrete plants, offices and parking lots. It has been plowed over, run over, fought over, kicked, scraped, shot at, bombed, burned, ambushed, and shelled. Industrial center above. Below a vessel of humans and of explosives. Sleeping bones and unexploded ordinances - hiding the invisible for over five decades. Half a hundred years of potential horror just beneath the surface. Now covered up by a not-so-neatly stitched scar. The essence of what’s left. And where did that peace sign ever go? My printer rolls out the glossy black and white on a thin piece of 11x17 paper. White circles reveal themselves to me. Under which bomb craters, under which tombstones, under which piles of land mine debris are those hopeful bulldozer tracks today?

Stationed at Camp Eagle between 1970-1971, Michael Francis Trochan received a copy of this aerial photograph. It is not clear who took the photo, but it is believed that it was created by a photographer connected to the Bob Hope Christmas Show.

Image Description from Flickr - Aerial image of a large peace sign, apparently made with a bulldozer, is part of the countryside near Camp Eagle, headquarters site of the 101st Airborne Division, in the northern part of South Vietnam on May 8, 1971. The peace sign is a popular symbol among soldiers. The smaller pocks visible in photo are grave sites, built in circular mounds, as is the custom in the area. (AP Photo) https://www.flickr.com/photos/13476480@N07/51535106867

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Bridget Hayes lives in Northern California with her wife and two orange cats. Her writing is published or forthcoming in Yellow Arrow Journal, Wild Roof Journal, Ionosphere, Ginosko Journal, Ink In Thirds Magazine, and Bear Paw Arts Journal. She is a tech librarian who helps people overcome their fear of technology. She is the daughter of a Vietnam veteran. Visit https://bridgethayes.carrd.co/ or follow her on Instagram @beoutside2writes.