A MIGHTY BIG RABBIT

Back in 1969 during the height of the Vietnam War, we lost a gentle loving person who also happened to be our medic. Seven months earlier when he first reported into the platoon we called him Doc, but after a short period someone dubbed him 'Bones' in honor of Doctor McCoy of the famed Star Trek Television series. The name stuck.

Bones was a conscientious objector. For those not familiar with military jargon, a conscientious objector is a person who refuses to carry a weapon, refuses to kill, but still wants to serve their country.

Consequently, the only thing Bones carried that even resembled a weapon was a hunting knife that he used to cut bandages, or in worse cases, clothing from the wounded.

Of course Bones carried other things, like a medical bag that probably weighed fifty pounds and most of the time he carried at least half a dozen canteens that he used to wash wounds. These canteens invariably found their way to members of the platoon who didn't know how to properly conserve their own water.

As any good Infantryman knows, the three people who usually gravitate together and become the tightest group in the platoon are the medic, radio operator (RTO), and the platoon leader. Therefore, being the platoon leader, it was preordained that Bones and I should become very close friends.

One evening before going out on a particularly dangerous ambush patrol, I noticed that Bones was bowing his head in prayer, which he often did, but he was also talking to someone next to him.

This struck me as rather strange because, as hard as I searched I could see no one next to him. When he finished and noticed that I had been silently watching, he offered an explanation.

"Some years ago I had difficulty praying," he stated. "I could talk the words and for the most part mean them, but I had difficulty visualizing to whom I was praying. I simply could not visualize so powerful a being as our Creator."

Our minister told me to think of God sitting next to me when I prayed, however, I still could not do it because I could not visualize so perfect a being as God."

"You're not gonna believe this," he smiled, "but I finally realized that I did not have to visualize an ancient gray bearded man overflowing with wisdom, or a perfect Christ like the great masters painted. I was taught to believe that God lived in everything and everyone, that his presence is omnipotent, everywhere."

My question to him was, "So, what did you settle on?"

"I see a happy, soft, cuddly little bunny rabbit," he replied, "the same one who turned my life completely around."

"You see," he continued, "when I was in my early teens, like most youngsters, I didn't give much thought to what I did or the consequences of my actions. One day I decided to go hunting, to get a big fat rabbit for our dinner. Naturally we didn't need it, the supermarket shelves were overflowing with meat of all kinds and we were a well-off family. Even the thought of eating a wild, once living thing, sort of turned my stomach."

"But, I was successful in my hunting. I pumped at least a dozen small rounds into that soft ball of fur from no more than ten feet away. I blew that young bunny all to smithereens."

"However, when I saw its bloody, mutilated, stone cold body; suddenly aware of what I had done, I cried and cried so much I didn't think I would ever stop. Right then and there I swore to God that I would never intentionally kill a living thing again so long as I lived and I pray often to keep that vow."

"I talk to that invisible bunny rabbit next to me because I know God has the power to undo the horrible thing I did and in that little bunny lies the eternal spirit of the Creator."

Bones never made it back from Vietnam. This gentle person was killed the same day I was medically evacuated for severe wounds. I guess we were not all devils in baggy pants, there were some lambs among the wolves. But, I often think of him and his story and have tried to visualize God next to me when I pray.

Maybe that's why when my wife catches me talking to myself and asks, "Who are you talking to?"

My reply is - a mighty big rabbit!