Who is Jason Roberts?
It was 9 am Monday morning. I called a friend at the local VA hospital. I used him for doing background checks on former soldiers. I always had Jacob do background checks before I did any interviews for the book I was writing.
I gave him the name Jason Roberts. I met Roberts a a garage sale the previous Saturday. We had started talking over some old knives. He made a comment that one of them was what the Viet Cong would carry. I told him I was a writer doing some research for a book I was writing. He agree to meet with meet the following Saturday over some beers.
Early the following Wednesday morning the phone rang. I picked it up to get this screaming voice in my ear. It said, “Are trying to get me in trouble?”
“Calm down Jacob,” was my response. I recognized my friend from his caller ID. “What is the matter?”
“This, this Jason Roberts you had me check out”, came my friend’s stutter voice. “I just got a call from military intelligence wanting to know why I was wanting information on your Jason Roberts.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked.
“I told him I was just doing some research on Vietnam vets who live in Idaho.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to forget about Roberts. Roberts is off limits to any inquires. Only doctors are allowed to make inquiries for medical reasons. If anyone else asks I am to this number he gave me, right away.”
“Can you give me his name and number?”
“No way! They will through me in jail! From the way this guy sounded, you are messing with some high level spy. My suggestion is to leave this guy alone. You’re could get yourself into a lot of trouble just talking to him.”
After Jacob hung up I sat back in my chair. Now I was more than determined to sit down and have a few beers with Jason Roberts.
Saturday finally came. The early summer sun let everyone know today was going to be a hot one. We were not to expect any cool breeze for some time.
The address that Jason gave me was a thirty minute drive outside of town, then a left turned on a dirt road for another 100 yards up a hill.
There sitting on the front porch of a rustic old cabin was Jason Roberts sitting in a wooden rocking chair. He was dressed in old jeans and and blue and white Boise State t-shirt. I thought it interesting his feet were covered with some black sock like shoe.
He stood up and waved at me as I drove up. He stepped down from his front porch and walked over to where I parked my car.
“Glad to see you could make it,” Jason said just as I stepped out of my car.
“I wouldn’t miss this chance to sit down with you and have a few beers.”
“I hear you have been doing some checking up on me,” stated Jason as he gripped my hand, and pulled it toward him to look me in the eye.
I gave him a questioning look. He replied to my look with the comment, “I would of have been disappointed if you hadn’t I kinda figured you were the type of guy who likes to know what is getting himself into before it happens.”
We walked back to the porch. He offered me a seat on a wooden rocking chair next to the one he had been sitting in. Then he went inside and brought out two bottles of beer with droplets of condensation sliding down the outside.
“This is my personal home brew. Careful, it has 19% alcohol.” I smiled. We made small talk while he finished off his first bottle. Mine was only about half way done.
We both stopped taking. For several minutes there was complete silence. At that point Jason got up from his chair and walked inside. A few moments he came out with a rather thick old photo album. It was a faded brown.
He sat back down, “I want to show you something.”. Then he open the album to the first page. There was an old black and white photo of what looked like an air field.
Pointing a the picture of an American Airlines jet on the runway, Jason continued, “That is Tan Son Nhut Air Base, South Vietnam, in 1968.”
“I landed in a troop transport three months after the Tet Offensive. Continental Airlines flew us in into Tan Son Nhut. It was from there soldiers arriving were shipped off to their respective duty assignments.