Scene 7 Strolling along downtown Clearfield’s gallery of Hometown Heroes. Still bright outside on a clear July night.
At Uncle Phil’s flag.
Leah: Tell me about Uncle Phil. He looks so dashing in this picture.
Grandpa: He was the kind of man that just did what had to be done. Whether it was a concert with the band or a dinner at church. He threw down without complaining. Kind of a Jimmy Stewart type. Managed the Sears store for decades. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. Just a real man. Hated Trump and the Fascists with a passion, though. He was a real patriot who actually fought a righteous war against fascism. He saw through all their crap. The polar opposite of Trump.
Leah: Oh yeah, Mom told me about those awful times. Did they really storm the Capitol?
Grandpa: Absolutely. How can that even be a question? Didn’t you get that in history class?
Leah: All that was scrubbed from the books, remember? Don’t say Gay; Critical Race Theory; anything that didn’t justify the White Right. President De Santis just kept erasing law after law. Even in college, a lot of that was too radioactive to discuss. And I am still in Miami!!
Grandpa: So you have a history gap, a reality gap. It’s one thing to suppress voting, limit adults’ rights, and all the other crap the Maga Maggots did, but to steal the truth from kids is the worst. You didn’t even know you were robbed. God! That was only, what? A dozen years ago. It’s as if you were orphaned and then adopted by fascists. Ahhhh.
Leah: My entire adolescence. Well, that’s why I have you, Grandpa, to fill in the gaps. I wish I’d met Uncle Phil, you know, spent a summer here like you did, Grandpa.
Grandpa: You can’t always get what you want. Rolling Stones.
Leah: Mom says that same thing.
Grandpa: Does she say the next lines?
Leah: I don’t think so. What are they?
Grandpa: “But if you try some time, you just might find, you get what you neeeeeed.”
Leah: Grandpa, you are channeling your inner Mick Jagger.
Grandpa: I can’t, Sweetie. He’s still alive, I think, in a clinic in Switzerland trying to get a full body transplant. Some folks just never die.
Leah: Well, that’s good to know. I want you to live forever, Grandpa. At least until you meet my grandchildren.
Grandpa: Not to worry, Honey Bun. I’ve got my future all sewn up.
Leah: Oh no, there’s the fart voice. Okay, Grandpa, pull my other leg now.
Grandpa: No fooling here, Missy. I have arranged for a retired taxidermist outside of Lancaster to stuff me, so I’ll be around for weddings, graduations, bar mitzvahs, and baby showers. I even picked out my new eyes, sort of a milky hazel.
Leah: You are impossible!! [Laughs reluctantly] I shouldn’t laugh. Grandma always said not to encourage you.
Grandpa: I know. I was there, remember? I wasn’t beaten enough as a child.
Leah: She always said that.
Grandpa: She got it from Clark.
Leah: Okay, that didn’t seem like something she made up.
Turning the corner and looking at the Hero flags
Grandpa: Leah, this is Mark “The Shark” Milford. Forever young.
Leah: Oh, he was young. He’s just a kid in the picture. My age!
Grandpa: 20 years old.
Leah: What was he like, Grandpa?
Grandpa: To be honest, he was a horn toad. Always going on about sex. He said what most of us thought about but were too dignified to blurt out. He had no filter.
Leah: Ick! I’ve known guys like that. Do you know how he died?
Grandpa: Yep, a goddamned trip wire.
Leah: What’s that?
Grandpa: I guess they would be called IED’s now. They were two grenades affixed to tree trunks next to jungle paths. Their pins were tied to one another by a sturdy wire down low. The lead soldier or point man would be looking everywhere with his head on a swivel as he led his group into the dense jungle. Looking everywhere but down. When his boot tripped the wire, he would be obliterated by two grenades firing simultaneously. His feet in his boots would be all that could be retrieved. Dog tags disintegrated.
Leah: Oh my God! That’s so disgusting!! Horrifying.
Grandpa: It gets worse, Honey.
Leah: How is that even possible?
Grandpa: Well, it’s complicated. Um, you see, a lot of Mark’s over the top horny act was a screen to cover his bisexual desires. He was more or less an equal opportunist pretender when it came to sex partners.
Leah: Really? Why didn’t he just come out with it? Oh, never mind, it was the late ‘60’s and I can’t imagine the taboos then, right?
Grandpa: Right. Yeah, and let’s cross the street here. I mean even Elton John had to hide who he was. See that young man on this pole?
Leah: Steven Mueller. Was he another one of your gang?
Grandpa: Yes, he and Mark were really close, though Mark always outed Stevie, you know?
Leah: You mean Steve was gay?
Grandpa: Yeah, queer, fag, gay, homo, whatever. The thing is that he and Mark were sex partners.
Leah: You mean, uh, wait. Mark hit Stevie with homophobic put downs while at the same time he and Stevie were secret lovers?
Grandpa: Something like that. Some sort of sadomasochistic control thing, I guess. There was a lot of commitment from Stevie, though. I believe he followed Mark to ‘Nam out of love and concern, trying to stay attached.
Leah: Man, that’s extreme devotion, I mean he literally put his life on the line, well, I guess he got killed too, just to follow his lover. Almost romantic in a perversely twisted way.
Grandpa: I wish it were that simple, Honey. See, when Mark got killed, Stevie was already being processed for a dishonorable discharge for his homosexuality. Seems somebody told somebody, and there you have it– the greatest threat to America’s security in an undeclared war was a twenty year old gay man in Saigon.
Leah: No way!! That’s crazy. I mean sickening!!
Grandpa: Yeah, so while he was waiting for more of the shame show, he heard of Mark’s death.
Leah: And so how did Stevie die if he was being discharged?
Grandpa: He shot himself.
Leah: Oh my sweet Lord!! But, how, you know, how did he end up on this flag for Hometown Heroes?
Grandpa: He was reported as Killed in Action. You know, that’s so much better than saying that the Army and society killed him through persecution. Less paperwork too.
Leah: [Gasp] I want to go now, Grandpa. This is too much for me to handle.
Grandpa: Sorry, Honey. Life doesn’t always have happy endings, but when we get back to Cathy’s, I’ll tell you about the happy beginnings, okay?
Leah: I hope so. This last bit has been soul crushing. Like my soul is going to vomit.
Grandpa: I know that feeling too well, Queenie. Let’s go.
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