David Vancil

The Fifth Columnist

David Vancil

Khanh, the district’s chief interpreter, is friendly and handsome with movie star looks. He wears his pants pegged and shirts tapered. I don’t trust him. He inquires too often of my comings and goings.

He likes telling me I’ve barely escaped with my life—the VC had waited at the crossroads. “You’re lucky, Lieutenant. Aren’t you afraid you’ll die?” I shrug as if it doesn’t matter, never bothering to make an answer.

In the final days of my tour, the district advisor, Captain S, tells me he suspects Khanh too. There’s something off—he’s just too perfect. How can you trust someone like that? Who does he think he’s fooling?

Years later, I’ll learn Khanh fought valiantly beside my one-time captain, who stood on the strut of a helicopter firing his M16 until the barrel burned. I see it like a movie in my mind, Khanh acting brave, laughing, teeth white.

When I’m a civilian, I’ll dream that Khanh tracked me down in my town. He’s come to tell me he’s brought me a gift from Vietnam. He’ll smile.

David Vancil is retired from the faculty of Indiana State University. His work has appeared in small periodicals, critical reviews, and a few anthologies. As well, he is the author of four poetry collections. War and Its Discontents, a collection of military poems centered on family service and his own time in the U.S. Army, will be published by Angelina River Press sometime in 2022. He is at work on a collection of new and selected poems, which he hopes to publish no later than 2023. David lives in Terre Haute, Indiana, with his wife, three cats, and a dog.