Chapter 28

Grand Forks AFB Home of the Bone

Because of Lanh’s pregnancy, they were able to leave Germany and head to North Dakota almost immediately. They both were beaming with joy over the expected arrival of the little one ... imagine moving into your new housing unit at your first stateside assignment and find out that you’re finally going to have a baby! They waited so long, three years of joyful unprotected sex finally came to fruition, sitting up long into the night discussing baby names, Don wanted traditional Vietnamese first and middle names, Lanh leaned toward Celtic or Nordic first and middle names. “How about Donovan Aloysius Campbell?” said Lanh as they cuddled naked in their bed on a chilly autumn evening.

“We already have a Donovan Aloysius Campbell,” Don gave her a stern look. “If going through what I went through is associated with that name, then no.”

“But I want to honor you!” she half rolled on him, her chin on his breastbone, their eyes met, but Don looked sad.

“What if there’s no Lanh out there to save him? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” For a moment, they both considered where they would be if they hadn’t met. Lanh would most certainly be found dead in her mother’s bathroom the day after the dance where they met. Don would have ended up as just another farm boy who ran away from the farm and was now on the streets of Minneapolis, most likely dead with a needle in his arm within a year. In the end, they decided that if it was a girl, her middle name would be Tam and if it was a boy, his middle name would be Huy. The first names were still under consideration.

Another controversy was how many children to have. Lanh wanted to have seven, solely because her mother had six. Don insisted two were fine, three were perfect, but he’d be happy with any number that they got.

Still unnamed, their minor blip on the radar was visited by the excited future grandparents, Mai and Duong, shortly after Lanh’s announcement to them that the baby was on its way. After a quick tour of the base and a B-1 bomber, “The Bone” (B-One = Bone. The military loves jokes like that.) They retired to Don and Lanh’s home for lunch, and they made plans for the holidays. As the family set down to eat lunch and make their plans, Lanh suddenly excused herself and ran to the bathroom, a strange look on her face. Don was startled by the sound of her weeping. He arrived when she came out of the bathroom, her face screwed up in pain and confusion. “Honey, I think there’s a problem...”

The four of them raced to the base hospital where Don convinced Lanh over and over, “It’s ok, it’s ok, this happens quite often, we were only a few months along, it doesn’t mean...” all the convincing and reassurance Don could come up with was no good when the ER doctor announced that she miscarried.

Ever since that dark day when she lost the baby Don worked hard to make life better for Lanh, anything she wanted was hers, she spent a lot of time at home in Grant Valley with Tam and Kim-ly, and Don would commute to her on weekends. It broke USAF regulations to be more than an hour away from his duty station without taking leave but his supervisor was a hunter who hunted in the western region of North Dakota which was a further drive than Grant Valley so he told his boss that he was taking his wife hunting. Just so his story wasn’t a complete lie, Don set some cans on fence posts, and they took a couple of .22 caliber rifles and went hunting aluminum.

Two months after losing the baby, on Christmas Eve, Don and Lanh were slowly getting back into the Christmas spirit, house decorated, the tree was up, Lanh’s beautiful German carved picture frames hung in places where they would be seen easily, Christmas was their unofficial anniversary and they missed one together and swore that it would never happen again. Don was in the shop updating some technical orders when the shop chief whistled loudly, then shouted, “Campbell, get your ass in here.”

Don stepped into Master Sergeant Vanderhorst’s office and gave a British-style salute, palm facing Sergeant Vanderhorst, “Aye, aye mate, What up?” It was Christmas Eve; they were going to shut down operations soon and military protocol was relaxed. The coke machine had become the mixer machine as illicit bottles of whiskey and rum emerged from desk drawers.

Dale Vanderhorst scoffed and said, “First, I’m a sergeant, you don’t salute me, I work for a living. Second, aye, aye is naval, but that salute is British Army, RAF, and Marine, a British naval salute is the same as ours. Third, your spousal unit is blowing up my phone line,” he handed Don the handset of the office phone and pressed the flashing button on the phone and said, “Speak!”

It was Lanh. She was excited. “The hospital called, Doctor Ismail wants to give us the test results before ten!”

Don looked up at his shop chief and didn’t have to say a word. The look on his face said it all. “Go!” said Dale. “Just remember this early gift next year.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes sweetness,” said Don and he handed the phone back to his boss, “and thank you darling.”

“Fuck you, merry Christmas, now get the fuck outta here,” chuckled Master Sergeant Vanderhorst as Don dashed out of the office. Don was only there for three months and was making a splash in his unit.

Twenty minutes later, Don and Lanh were sitting in a small examination room waiting for Doctor Ismail. And they waited. They waited over an hour, and twice Don went out to the front desk where medical technicians worked. “We were supposed to talk to Doctor Ismail at ten AM, we were here at nine forty-five, it’s now eleven fifteen, it’s Christmas eve, it’s our anniversary, we’re out of here. Call us on Monday.”

“Airman Campbell, Doctor Ismail will be with you momentarily,” said an annoyed looking lieutenant.

“We’ve heard that several times this morning. He’s got five minutes, and then we’re gone, and I will be filing a complaint through my commander.” Don checked his watch, then turned on his heel and headed back toward Lanh, but the lieutenant stepped out from behind her desk and tried to block his way back to the waiting room. Don took a small notebook out of his pocket and said, “Whitaker? Did I get your name right ma’am?” His glare was poison. No one gets between him and Lanh.

“Airman Campbell, I’m sorry,” she whispered softly, “this is all wrong, and if you want to...”

“It’s ok Lieutenant, I have it,” said a familiar voice behind Don. He turned, and it was Dr. Ismail, “Follow me airman,” and he led Don and Lanh into the exam room. There he sat down and said, “The laparoscopy we performed last month determined that Mrs. Campbell suffered from an advanced case of endometriosis which is preventing...”

And then it was over. Their dreams were gone, the little boys and girls they were going to raise on the farm in a sea of love, home schooling so no bully would ever break their hearts. It was all over. Lanh wept openly while a ringing filled Don’s ears. It was all over.

It was a dark and horrible Christmas. They were both utterly shattered. They normally spend Christmas Eve, their favorite day, a Friday this year, the anniversary of their first expression of love, cuddled up together in Don’s old wingback chair listening to Christmas music, watching their train circle under the tree, and make love in the tree’s light, their house aglow in candlelight and love. This year they huddled together for support, the house dark, the phone shut off. The only sound was their weeping and an odd echo of sorrow. Lanh said that it was her angel crying.

Late Sunday night found them still on the couch, huddling together. Their only breaks were to go to the bathroom. The thought of eating or drinking only nauseated them, and sleep escaped Don while Lanh slept fitfully.

Don called his shop chief on Monday morning at ten minutes before roll call. “Hey Dale, I know that this is the last minute, but I have three days of leave on the books, I need to take them. We found out Friday that Lanh can’t ... we can’t have babies ... I can’t leave her right now ... we need...”

Master Sergeant Vanderhorst responded, “Take as much time as you need, if there’s anything you guys need or want, you call me, ok?”

“Yeah, thanks Dale.” Don’s voice was choked with relief and sorrow. He needed to cry as much as Lanh, but it just wouldn’t come out. That was ok, he had to stay strong for her.

“Wait ... did you say you found out Friday?” Dale was incredulous.

“Yeah, you were there, the hospital called and asked us to come in and...”

Don’s boss seethed as the gears in his head clicked, then he roared, “on Christmas eve? They told you about this shit on Christmas eve? Those sons of BITCHES! I am so sorry Don.”

“It’s ok, we’ll get through it...”

“The bastard probably wanted to clear some crap off of his desk ... Fuck me ... God damn them ... I know you’ll get through it, you’re good people and the entire shop is here for you.” Dale was livid. How dare some “nonner” treat HIS people like that?