Though the Army had been integrated for well over a decade, there was still a tendency to self-segregate. The blacks had a spot in the chow hall dubbed the “Sugar Shack” where soldiers would gather in the rare event that there was some downtime. On days like today when the heavy spring rains made it seem like all of the ‘Nam was drowning, Corporal Darcy became the self-appointed morale officer for Bravo Company.
“’Bout time!” said Darcy, cranking up the volume on the battered transistor radio when the broadcast switched from Rock to Soul.
“Check it out man,” he said to the group, “when we get back stateside, Lewis and me gonna cut an album.”
Darcy and Lewis drifted into a practiced harmony.
Groovin' . . . on a Sunday afternoon…
Sergeant Baines looked up from his chow. “With all due respect, y’all two are acting like faggots.”
“This faggot is short,” grinned Darcy, unphased. “Twelve days and a wake up, baby.”
“You should re-up,” Baines insisted. “Ain’t nothin’ for you back in the world.”
“Only thing that needs to re-up is this rain,” joked Darcy. “This is official ‘Charlie Time Out Day.’”
That got a chuckle from all present.
Another favorite song followed. “Two for two!” Darcy marveled.
He was launching into his imitation of Aretha when Sergeant Mills burst into the chow hall, shouting.
“Dr. King is dead!”
Stunned, Darcy cut the power on the radio.
“Shut it down,” said Darcy, sober for once. “Shut it all down.”
This week's challenge:
1. Maximum length: 250 words.
2. The theme is: power
3. The time is: 1968
4. Within the story, you must use this text: all due respect.
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