Rak Jai (รักหัวใจ – Love from my heart)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My life has been plagued with hateful results. It started when Mr. Warden, the principal, recruited me to be part of his gang in high school. He selected me to be second in charge since I was captain of the football team.

Several of the football players were also taken on as cohorts. We started out taking students lunch money and selling protection. Our group gravitated to robberies and burglaries. Our favorite thefts came from men who stopped by their beloved bar on payday. Most would be drunk and it would be dark out. We would sneak up behind them, put a bag or pillowcase over their heads and whack them with a lug wrench. While they are out we would steal their money, taking rings, watches and any other valuable items.

Later, we forced girls and women to have sex with us. If they turned us in to the principal, he ordered that we massacre them. He had us slay those women that said they had been raped by him.

Our grades were below average bordering on failing, but he made it appear that we were middle of the road students. Thus, no one was aware that our scores were manufactured. The few that did catch-on were mysteriously eliminated.

Our law-breaking got worse, but revenues created a few thousand dollars a month. Mr. Warden's share was only a thousand a month. We lied to our parents who thought we had great after school jobs. Mr. Warden instructed us to purchase recent model cars reflecting incomes that were of students with good situations. As my wrong doing became more repulsive, I became sullen and withdrawn.

The group's crimes varied and supported us past graduation when the six of us were replaced by a newer set of crooks. My buddies and I bought three dumpy bars that were frequented by prostitutes. We had pool tables and projection televisions at each location. Drinking and gambling away the profits was our demise. Mr. Warden was the brains, leaving us without direction. That is until the members were out of school. Then he no longer had need of us. We were the not bright at running a criminal club.

I do regret what happened to Angie. She had stumbled on one of my associates and me talking about our fake grades. With a few questions to the principal and several of my teachers, she was about to expose me to my parents. She made good grades effortlessly. I did not have a streak of jealousy, because Mr. Warden is the one that had her attacked. Stupidity caused me to go along with it. I betrayed my family in several ways constantly lying to them, and evading their questions about my job.

Ben made me think when he said, "Big brothers are expected to protect their little sisters." Something within me knew I had done was wrong. It was too late for me to change. The media had revealed my deeds that sent me to death row. My buddies had given evidence to save themselves.

Three of us were taken to the state court house in Jefferson City. Mr. Warden sent his current crew to release six dozen frogs in the Supreme seat of law in Missouri. While every-ones' attention was diverted, the gang helped us sneak out as a student tour group.

Mr. Warden had given us IDs. I was presented with an Army uniform, orders to Thailand and a passport. Upon entering Thailand Mr. Warden had arranged for me to meet with a PH gang member who gave me a new uniform, orders and passport. I was on the way to Chiang Mai. I went to a bar where the PH gang member told me there would be a person named Phie, who would help me disappear in Southeast Asia. I waited for three days. I was told that he comes in every day, but had not been there in a week.

A bar girl hit on me every day. Her name was Sangdoaw. She told me that word on the street was that the Thai Intelligence Agency had raided the PH gang meeting place a week ago and killed all the members. She said, "He was a pimp for prostitutes at this bar. 'I bar girl from South Thailand I no prostitute. I make money getting soldiers to buy me drink. Drink taste like whisky, but no whisky.'"

Sharing my story with her produced a bitter-sweet sensation in me. We were attracted to each other and the passion burned amongst us. Explaining that Phie was going to help me disappear, she said, "I help you. You bad man, but you good man now."

We went to the airport to pick-up tickets. We stopped at an ice-cream shop on the way back. As luck would have it, my brother in law, sister and Lilly were there. Ben came over to me and began talking to me. I had rehearsed a Southern drawl and replied with a thick accent. I waved at them when I left. They waved back. The next day Royal Thai Intelligence agents were distributing a very grainy prison picture of me to bars.

Playing several rounds of hide found me using various masks and costumes. Finally, a friend of hers drove us to Lampang where we caught a bus that took us to Bangkok. Coloring my hair black, and wearing a tight-fitting rubber mask and a plain dark Chut Thai (sarong) made me look like an older Thai man. We were tense as we traveled. Every time an Army or police patrol past nearby, found us holding onto the edge of our seats.

A policeman boarded the bus after Phitsanulok. My heart was beating loud enough for everyone on the bus to hear. He began talking to me. Sangdoaw said, "My father knows you are chatting with him, but he cannot speak well. Extending a big grin and proffering a Thai wye while shaking my head up and down satisfied him.

A switch to a bus dropped us off at Surat Thani. From there we hired a truck and driver that landed Sangdoaw and me in the Ranong District of Southwest Thailand not far from the Kra Buri and La Un rivers. Her father is the patriarch of the village.

Her Daddy married us. Later on, I discovered that to make it legal, we would have to register it at the local Amphur, but it satisfied him and his wife. He gave us two rooms in his house. One had a simple double bed and the other was empty Her dowry from me was a small generator from a farm implement dealer in a town close by. It was strong enough to provide lights for the house and enough power to operate two oscillating fans. Her Dad puffed out his chest and added a bounce to his walk.

He bragged on me like I was his son rather than a son in law. I heard hand sawing and hammering one day. Sangdoaw's Dad was working fast in creating a box like structure a meter and a quarter long and three fourths a meter deep.

With a mallet and a set of hand chisels he crafted a work of art. Rockers were added. Stain, varnish, and buffing produced a mirror like sheen to his handiwork. The efforts fashioned the most beautiful piece of furniture I had ever seen. It was not until the stunning piece was placed in the extra room that the realization occurred to me that it was a rocking baby bed. Next to the little sleeper on each side were ornate rocking chairs. My father-in-law was a master woodcrafter.

Sangdoaw's Mom was swaying the cradle back and forth, and said, "It is for your baby." Fear slapped my face. A calm grin settled on my lips and a beam brightly glowed. I hugged her mother with the awareness that Sangdoaw was going to give birth to our baby. My superior strut had me floating through the house. I shouted, "Thank you very much! We are going to have a baby."

Many of the men in the area were illegal immigrants including me. I strolled down to the tavern (bar) and bought every-one a brew. I was bragging all about my new blessings. The congratulations were winding down, when one of the guys was boasting about his new country. One of the bar pals asked, "What cha mean?"

"Today I have finished five years in the Royal Thai Frontline Guard."

"So!"

"It declares that I am now a Thai citizen."

A great hush came over the room.

"How'd cha do that?"

"I just told you!"

"I volunteered for the Frontline

Guard five years ago. For those years of service, I was rewarded with Thai citizenship. It does not make a difference about your former crimes.

Your slate will be cleaned. When joining, you get to choose a new name. New valid IDs are issued. Families do not have to worry about you being caught, and the wife's family will be proud of you."

"What are you required to do?

"You protect the border a minimum of four hours a day for five days a week, or eight hours each on Saturday and Sunday. We are part of the reserves of The Royal Thai Army. Frontline Guards are obligated to study military procedures including weapons training and keeping physically fit. There are bodily fitness classes in MDCC or Muay Thai all over Thailand. Two of these locations are within ten kilometers of here."

"Anything else we should know?"

"The pay sucks, but the reward is worth it. The basic training program is six very tough weeks. If you make a mistake while on duty, you will die, or prompt someone else to die. That is why the training is important. At points of the training, there are times when something does not feel right. Listen to your heart. It will not come about often, but be prepared when it does."

Basic training was comparable to being in prison. The discipline was tough. The instructors were blunt with us. They informed us that our survival rate was low among our predecessors. The best chance of living depended on how we integrated what we learned and common sense.

The MDCC training affected me physically and mentally. The trainers assured us that the methods would save my life and those around me. We were to learn the techniques until they became habits like tying our shoe laces or breathing. The six weeks we were in basic training required us to work out two hours a day, after that we were to practice a bare minimum of three times a week, Additionally, it was recommended that running moderately two hours a day would help us build stamina.

Daily films of two to five minutes were shown featuring Mad Man Crossman. Chuckling to myself that my sister was married to the greatest fighter in the world, made me think I should have been proud of Angie in high school. However, it made me envious of her. That day, I should have stood-up for her, instead of being the source of her pain.

Many of my fellow trainees were on the track running before four every morning. It permitted me to slim down, and muscles replaced fat. Amazingly, the fogginess in my mind cleared. The importance of family and real friends became stronger.

Two of our beginner students were Thai females. Their crime was murder. Both had escaped from the provisional confinement center in Phuket. Fleeing and being a fugitive was exhausting for these two females. They had been living in a village like mine that was not on the map. The running time on the track and obstacle course revealed for these two women were better than most men.

Running and MDCC were helping my muscles tighten to the point that I was solid like my brother in law. The focus switched from a chance to escape from my evil undertakings, and it gave me a new purpose. Something greater was transforming me into a different man.

I no longer blamed Mr. Warden for making me a criminal. The life of corruption never was satisfying. My wife and son were more important than any money gained. My new job was much more than a place to work. It filled me with a sense of completeness and honesty.

I graduated head of my class and was promoted to Sip Tri ( - Lance Corporal.) After completing several four-hour classes in Non-Commission Officer (NCO) school in the morning, and working four hours in the evening raised me to a Sip Tho (สิบโท - Corporal.) Essentially the next advancement came because several Frontline Guards with more time in grade (TIG) than me had did not want to do the paperwork, nor take the responsibility. As a result, the rating of Sip Eck (บ - Sergeant) went to me.

The last upgrade came as the result of my Supervising NCOIC being killed by a sniper. He was a friend and my mentor. It put me in line to become a Ja Sip Tri จ่าสิบไตร - Sergeant Major-Third Class.) The elevation was the echelon on my when Sangdoaw, Pudd Fi Noy, and I visited my parents near Chiang Mai. I was shocked, elated and trembling to be sporting that status. I had been thrust to the task while serving a little over a year in the Guard. Many in my place would have had more than four years of experience. My thoughts were shaky, and my limbs were weak.

I was on orders to become the Non-Commission Officer in Charge (NCOIC) of a Frontline Guard platoon. Our quarters were in a cave along with a U.S. Marine unit West of Chiang Rai and Northwest of Chiang Mai.

At first my orders read temporary duty. New orders were given to me upon arrival making the assignment permanent. I was given the duty of NCOIC over three companies or nine platoons. We were a small Battalion. The United States Marine unit also has three companies made up of nine platoons. Along with the post came new shoulder epaulettes of a Ja Sip Eck (จ่าสิบเอก - Sargent Major-First Class.) While reporting to the Battalion Commander, Colonel Pun Rawn (ปืนร้อน – Hot Gun), I explained there must be some mistake. Only a regular Royal Thai Army (RTA) soldier could hold the rank of Sergeant Major-First Class with five years of service. He shook my hand and said, "Welcome to the regular RTA. In time of war some advancements come fast where needed."

"Sir, I only have thirteen months of service."

"You worked hard. You have finished the course work in the NCO Academy. According to my records the scores and evaluations put you in the top five percent. It is nobody's business how long you have been in the Army. Do you understand Sergeant Major?"

The reality of the post zapped me. My body was baffled, because it was difficult to keep from collapsing. The sweat poured from every pore. I saluted and said. "Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir!" I was confused and happy at the same time.

"Sergeant Major, tomorrow you will address the troops. You will tell them what you expect out of them. Our command clerk has drafted you a message that you might want to read, or you may give your own. The marines will be present. The Marine Commander will address the men after you. I will give a talk next, and the Brigadier will speak last."

I said, "Yes, Sir!" I wondered if he could hear my legs rattle.

I began reading the words from the pages in my hands. The Company Clerk was translating in Thai. The assembled were yawning. I lifted up the prepared script above my head, pitched the papers to the crowd and said, "This is a bunch of bull 'manure!' I would a use different word from my previous existence, but my wife is sitting on the stage. She would hit me on the side of my head, if she heard me use that word." The gathered laughed loud and long.

"I want you to know that I was a gangster." The crowd went quiet. I peered sternly into their faces, and said, "Most of you have committed crimes. The Frontline Guard and the Marines gathered here are protectors of the free world. I am not here to condemn you, but to thank you for your involvement.

We are a fraternity of outcasts attempting to make amends for the wrongs we did. War creates the opportunity for our offenses to be forgiven and forgotten. Many of our buddies have paid the ultimate price. The brotherhood we belong to will bring us out of the pits of hell.

The choice is simple. Look at the person next to you, then watch every individual in the hole where we reside. These are the people that will save your miserable lives. We are dependent on each other. Together we can conquer the world." There was a crack in my voice, and tears glazed my eyeballs.

I glared at the individuals in the crowd and declared, "All of us are family. The wrongs we did, do not label who we are. The war we fight, puts us facing an enemy that produces an evil more devastating than the offences we committed. Just remember, if our time comes to an end, and we draw our last breath, we can walk in an eternal glory of knowing our families, friends and nations are safe and secure.

I ended in speaking Thai first, then in English, "God bless each of you! Now go kick them on the backside!"

The applause was thunderous and the 'hoo-rahs' echoed. The Marine commander came to the podium, and said, "You heard what the Sergeant Major stated, 'Go, kick them on the backside!'"

The Brigadier bypassed my commander, and expressed, "Well done, Sergeant! Dismiss your troops!" I did, and the handclapping continued. Awesome and intimidating chaos existed amid peace and order surrounded turmoil.

The music woke me up. A Chinese lullaby was blaring. The music ended and an alluring feminine voice was speaking Chinese. "Hello boys, this is Pemchi. I want to say good morning to..." She reads a list of names. "We are your friends. Come on over boys. We will feed you and give you a nice bed to sleep in. Our Army will pay you on a regular basis. You will be treated well."

The voice stops. There was a rustling noise, and the sound of weapons dropping. Then the steps of forty barefoot untidy men marching. I was up and witnessed a group of young disheveled Chinese soldiers squatting and eating bowls of pork rice soup. A Royal Thai Army officer was speaking. The next three months we will teach you to be real soldiers. If anyone would like to leave, we will not harm you. No one got up to go.

My commander said, "Works every time. These Chinese boy soldiers are mistreated, malnourished and miserable. We take them in and treat them respectfully and they make the best Frontline Guard we can recruit."

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