A Plan Gone Bad

By Gregg Stoner

It’s 1967, and Bob Cruz and Dave Ford have been best friends since they met in the third grade at grammar school eleven years ago. Just finishing their freshman year at a community college, they have a mutual interest in guns and hunting, and they spend every available minute hunting in the fields outside their hometown of Fresno, California.

The Vietnam War is in full swing and Bob and Dave know it’s just a matter of time before they’re drafted and sent overseas. They decide to enlist in the Marine Corps through the buddy system. Unlike most young men, their desire to become Marines and go to Vietnam is combined with a strong desire to kill the enemy Viet Cong.

Avid hunters, they have a perverse desire to kill people before entering boot camp so they can determine if they have what it takes to be killers. Bob and Dave concoct what they believe is a foolproof plan. But their perfect murder has flaws that result in a living nightmare.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781663212825

Gregg Stoner

Gregg Stoner is a veteran Marine Corps drill instructor that served in the Vietnam War Era. He spent 32 years in the mortgage industry before retiring. Gregg next became a Retired Senior Volunteer Program officer with his wife Melody. They spent the next five years breaking records in all measurable categories for volunteers.

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CHAPTER 1

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B OB CRUZ AND Dave Ford had been best friends since they met in the third grade at grammar school eleven years earlier. They shared everything about growing up together. They had a mutual interest in guns and hunting, and had spent every available minute hunting in the fields outside their hometown of Fresno, California. They were never a part of the in-crowd and were always scorned by the popular kids because of their Daniel Boone hunting exploits. The year is 1967 and Bob and Dave were just finishing their freshman year in junior college. Neither one had grades well enough to start at a four year college. The Vietnam War was heating up and everyone they knew was being drafted into the Army, and they knew it was just a matter of time before they too would be called up for the draft.

Their time spent hunting and killing deer created a sense of thrill of the kills. The fact that they knew they would both eventually be drafted and sent to war caused Bob and Dave to show the world they were real men, so they joined the Marine Corps on the buddy plan an with a one-hundred-eighty-day delay-program that allowed them to finish their second semester in junior college before they had to report to boot camp. All they could talk about during that wait was how they could not wait to get to Vietnam and kill the enemy. They talked endlessly about how they planned to be heroes killing more enemy than anybody else. They also realized that there was a difference between talking about killing and actually killing. The pair had killed plenty of animals during their hunting trips, but they knew that was not the same as killing a real person. Killing a man would take a lot of guts.

Bob was the stronger personality of the two and was the one that usually came up with most of their plans. He made a proposal that would stun Dave.

Dave, I have an idea that can give us an edge in our desire to kill enemy soldiers. I know this may sound a little far out, but I was thinking that we need to experience killing a person before we go in. That way we will know if we can do what we are talking about.

What do you mean, asked Dave in total surprise to Bob’s proposal.

Killing deer is one thing, and killing a human is quite another, Bob replied.

I know Bob, but killing an innocent person doesn’t make any sense, Dave retorted.

I understand where you are Dave, but hear me out on this: we both want to become the most proficient enemy killers in the Marine Corps, and I believe we need to know in advance if we have what it takes to take a human life, Bob said.

But Bob, you are talking about murdering someone who is not an enemy!

Killing is killing Dave. We need to make sure we have what it takes. Are you afraid to kill someone Dave, Bob asked in a tone that reflected his displeasure with Dave for his sudden balk to his proposal."

How would this killing take place, Dave inquired.

It’s simple: the night before they are to leave for boot camp in San Diego we do the deed. First we will use a combination of weapons to experience the killing from different perspectives. We would shoot someone from a distance with my Winchester 30-30 I got from my grandfather when I turned fourteen. Next we would my old Smith and Wesson handgun .38 special. We would each kill someone with the guns. Then we would use our Bowie hunting knives. The plan is to try and make the experiences start from a distance and finally end up really close and very personal.

Why not just wait until we get trained in the Marine Corps? After all, who practices killing people before they enter the Marines, Dave argued.

"We both agreed we wanted to be the best Marine killers during the war, and we need to have an edge. We need to get used to killing in preparation for Vietnam, Bob continued.

We could get caught, Dave argued.

By using the different weapons the resulting murder investigation would probably not link the murders together. After we’re done we would bury our clothes along with the weapons in a deep hole we would dig in advance. We then board the Greyhound bus for the long ride to Los Angeles where the military processing center is and from there we would be sent to Marine Corps Recruit Depot at San Diego. The killings would be so random and senseless that there would be absolutely no reason for us to be suspects and we would be gone before the bodies were even discovered, Bob proudly said of his plan.

Although initially stunned by the proposal, Dave was also thrilled by the thought of it all. I guess you have a good point Bob, so count me in.

In preparation for their plan Bob picked up Dave on Saturday, 24 June and they drove out into the farming area outside of Fresno to locate a good spot to dig a hole so they could bury their weapons and bloody clothing after they were done killing. Eventually they determined that the long isolated road they were on was so remote that it posed a great place to dig a hole. Bob pulled the Monza to the edge of the narrow road and they got out and began digging the hole with their entrenching tools. Bob felt that going down a couple of feet was all they needed, so once it was deep enough they placed a couple of dried out tumble weeds on top of the exposed hole. When done they headed to Fresno to cruise for the rest of the night.

The two had to report to the bus depot for a departure at 4:00 AM on Monday, June 26. They decided they would say goodbye to their parents around 7:00 PM the Sunday evening before. After meeting each other they would wait until dark to put the plan into action. They had their spare clothes in travel bags stored in the trunk of Bob’s car and nothing would seem unusual.

On Sunday, 25 June, Bob hugged his mom and shook his dad’s hand. Maria Cruz was crying uncontrollably about his departure. She was terrified that Bob would be another statistic in Vietnam and she would never see him again. Gilbert Cruz was a Navy veteran of World War II and knew the dangers Bob was in for. The nightly news was bringing very clear reports of the death toll of Americans killed in action in the ever-increasing war. Both parents knew Bob had no real choice in going, but that did not make the departure any better. Bob assured them that he would be okay and then walked to his red Corvair Monza, jumped in and waved good-bye as he drove away to pick up Dave. His dad agreed to pick up Bob’s parked car at the bus depot in downtown Fresno the next day.

Dave was very nervous at saying goodbye to his mom. His dad had left them many years earlier and just he and his mom lived together. Kathy Ford was a proud mom and would not show her emotions to Dave as they hugged and kissed goodbye. She was beginning to realize she would be alone with no one around to talk to or share life. She asked him to be careful and to write often. Dave assured her he would. Bob was waiting in the driveway, so Dave turned and walked out to the Corvair. They took off down the street as Dave waved to his mom. Their pulses raced as they anticipated their deeds for the night.

It was going to be dark soon and they wanted to have the last light of the day to allow them to sight in on their first kills with the rifle. They each brought fresh clothes they planned to wear after the killings since they wanted to dispose of the clothes worn during the killings, as no doubt there would be blood all over them.

The two decided they would go to a fairly remote rural road in the country outside of town and wait for a car to come down the road. Dave was going to flag the car down as though he had an emergency. Bob would be hiding in some brush nearby and would take aim at the driver when the car stopped. He wanted a headshot to make it a clean kill and minimize their time. They took up their positions with Dave standing by the car.

It seemed like an eternity before a pickup truck finally came down the dusty road. The pickup had two occupants so they had to take out both of them. This was unexpected, as they had anticipated there would only be a single person in the car when they planned it out. But the plan was already taking shape and Dave waved his arms to flag down the truck. The old pickup eased up behind the Corvair that had the engine lid lifted up. As soon as the truck rolled to a stop the driver got out and walked toward the car. Bob let loose with a round from the 30-30. The shot hit the farmer in the head and he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dave turned white. The passenger in the truck realized it was an ambush and dropped down out of sight and reached for a .357 magnum they carried in the truck. Bob could not see the man to fire a round at him. Dave ran to the Corvair to grab the Smith and Wesson. The passenger suddenly put the truck in reverse and began to back up as fast as he could get the truck to move in reverse, firing three rounds from his .357 magnum toward his attackers as he sped backwards. Dave began firing the Smith and Wesson in rapid succession. Bob was shooting the Winchester at the truck. The truck suddenly veered sharply to the right and landed with a loud thud into the ditch on the side of the road rolling over onto its top. The man inside was thrown out of the truck when it swerved toward the ditch and he landed on the surface of the road. With all his might the victim raised his .357 magnum to shoot at the assassins, but a bullet from the Winchester struck him in the forehead before he could fire the shot.

Dave and Bob panicked. This was not what they had in mind. They had to pick up the ejected cartridges from the Winchester so that there would be no immediate evidence at the scene. Dave ran to the side of the road and puked his guts out. They then got in the car and drove away as quick as the Corvair would go.

After about twenty minutes of silence, Dave confided to Bob: Seeing a man killed was very different than killing a deer. I felt empty in my stomach, and was cringing at the thought that we had just taken life from two people.

Well we really didn’t plan this very well. We should have anticipated more than one person in the truck. We still want to complete our plans of killing more people, right Dave," Bob probed.

I guess so and I won’t fight the plan, Dave meagerly replied.

By now it is dark and their next planned victim was going to be a close-range shooting experience. They knew that many people in the warm valley did their jogging after the sun set so that they would not have to endure the heat of the sun while they jogged. Bob would drive down the roads until they found a jogger and pull along side as if to ask directions. When the person would start to come to the car Dave would shoot with the .38 revolver.

Dave’s hands were sweating and shaking almost uncontrollably. He did not want to tell Bob that this is not at all what he had expected. But Dave was not going to chicken-out on his friend, and he was determined to prove his worth as a macho man capable of killing. He was deep in thought when he realized the Corvair was slowing down. Ahead he could see a woman jogging on the roadside. He rolled his window down as they came along side and said, Excuse me ma’am.

The young lady looked over and then turned toward Dave. Dave fired the Smith and Wesson and the shot hit the woman in the chest killing her instantly. Bob hit the gas and the Corvair sped down the road from the murder scene. Dave leaned out the window and puked again. He felt weak and was sweating profusely. Bob had a smile on his face revealing that he was having a great time.

After an hour of aimless driving, Bob pulled into a MacDonald’s drive-in to get some dinner. Dave said he couldn’t eat, but Bob was starving. Bob ordered his usual Big Mac, fries, and a Coke. They picked up the food and pulled into the parking area so Bob could eat. They talked about their final goal of using the knife to kill the next victim. Bob could see that Dave was really getting on his edge over this and looked like he was having serious second thoughts about going further with their plans.

I don’t see how you can eat after that, Dave said to Bob as he finished his burger.

Listen Dave, I know how you feel, but you have to remember that we are doing this so that we know we can do it in Vietnam. You can’t chicken out on me now Dude.

A Chevelle with mag wheels pulled into the lot and pulled over to the two. It was some buddies from college. They wanted to know if there was party that night. Dave told them they didn’t know of any parties, then laughed and told them they were off to Marine Corps boot camp the next day and had to get to bed early anyway.

Bob started the Corvair and pulled back onto the road. They wanted to cruise the boulevard a couple of times before finishing their killing spree. They both enjoyed cruising and this would be the last opportunity enjoy the ride. Bob even thought they could get in a couple of drag races while they were at it.

After a couple of hours of cruising they decided it was time to head up to Marcel Point, which is the place frequented often by young lovers, and was the lovers’ lane of local note. There was always someone there. Dave knew the plan and he knew he could not back down now.

Bob turned the Corvair turned onto the narrow dirt lane leading to the area known as the Point. Bob turned off the headlights like all the drivers do so as not to disturb the others there. There was only one car at the Point, and nobody was in the car. Bob and Dave knew the occupants were probably out in the field lying on a blanket, out of sight from others that would arrive. They got out of the car and each pulled their hunting knives out of their bags. This was going to be a stealth kill of sorts. They had to quietly sneak up on their victims and slash their throats before they could scream or become aware of their presence. Quietly they stalked off in the meadow. In the faint light available from the waning moon they could see the couple making love on a blanket. The couple was so engrossed in their lovemaking that they did not hear or sense the two killers approaching. Bob whispered that he was going to take out the man and told Dave to kill the girl. The assassins were erotically charged up when they heard the girl moaning and groaning while her lover climaxed on top of her. Bob acted swiftly and slit the throat of the man while he was still thrusting into his mate. It took a second for the girl to realize something was wrong but Dave cut her throat clear down to the spinal cord. There were gurgling sounds for a few seconds until the body’s quickly ceased living.

The two ran back to the Corvair and grabbed a rag to wipe the blood from the blades and their hands. They jumped into the car and Bob drove the Monza back down the lane toward the roadway. Before they got to the road another car turned up the lane. Bob knew immediately that they had to take these people out, as they would be witnesses who could identify them by their car. Bob pulled up in front of the car on the single lane road. Dave got out and walked up to the drivers’ window motioning for the driver to roll down his window. He noticed the car had two couples in it. Dave quickly made up a story that there was a problem back at the Point and then, without warning, he pulled out the Smith and Wesson and shot the driver in the head. The other passengers began to scream, and it startled Dave at first, but he quickly shot the other three in their heads. He quickly got back in the Corvair and Bob pulled around the victim’s car and drove back to the highway.

Dave and Bob were silent while Bob steered the car to the spot on the side of a country road where they had dug a hole a few feet deep the previous day in a remote rural area just off to the side of a country road. The two wrapped the weapons in a blanket and then threw them into the pit. They stripped off their clothes and tossed them in on top of the blanket. Bob had thought to bring some canteens in the trunk so they could wash the blood off their hands and arms from the stabbings. They put on fresh clothes and shoes and then buried all the evidence. Dave carefully laid some brush and tumble weeds over the newly broken ground so that it did not look like anything out of the usual. Once done Bob drove the Corvair straight back to Fresno and parked in the parking lot of the Greyhound Bus Depot. It was 2:30 AM and they had an hour and a half before they would depart for the Los Angeles military processing center.

While they waited on the hard depot wooden benches they talked quietly about their experiences.

How do you feel Dave, asked Bob.

I feel kind of weird Bob. I guess I feel bad about killing innocent people. But at least I know I can kill people. It’s kind of thrilling, replied Dave with a slight grin on his face.

I know what your mean Dave. To me it was sort of like killing deer. I will have no issue killing Viet Cong when we get to Vietnam. We will have an edge on the other recruits in boot camp since we are experienced. I’ll bet the drill instructors will see those qualities in us right from the start. I am glad we made this plan.

They were alone in the depot most of the time. They both agreed they had succeeded in finding out they were capable of killing. They even laughed about their shortcomings in failing to anticipate the unexpected, vowing to never put themselves into that predicament again. They were smug in believing they were safe from being caught, as nobody saw them that lived and all the evidence was buried. There was no apparent motive for the crimes. There was no reason to ever suspect two young men on their way to a career in the Marine Corps. They had pulled off the perfect crimes.

At 3:50 AM the depot announced the loading of the bus that would carry them south to Los Angeles for processing. Soon they would be Marines. They boarded the bus and found seats at the rear. There were only twenty-three others on the bus and they had the rear of the bus all to themselves. The evenings’ rush of adrenaline had drained their bodies and they both fell sound asleep as the bus droned south.

CHAPTER 2

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D AVE AND BOB woke up just as the Greyhound bus pulled off the freeway and headed down the city street toward the Los Angeles military processing depot in the blighted center of the downtown area. It was 8:30 AM and there was smog in the air. It was a far cry from the cleaner air they were used to in Fresno. Los Angeles did not have that sparkle they expected either, as the sun shown down through the smoggy air and the atmosphere looked orange-like. The downtown streets had trash everywhere and everything looked very seedy. Another passenger two rows up had a transistor radio playing and the news reported the grisly murders in the Fresno area the night before. Dave and Bob looked at each other and then turned to look outside.

The bus finally pulled in front of the military processing depot and the two rose and left the bus with the others. They entered the large depot building and saw a sign from the armed forces for draftees and enlistees to report there. They walked up to the counter and announced their names. The Army sergeant at the table looked each up on his list and put a checkmark by their names. He told them there was a car that would take them to the processing center, which was a short ways away. They walked out to the curb and found the tan government car waiting and got inside. The driver quietly drove them to the processing center where they got out and walked into the building as instructed. Once inside they again announced their names at the first desk they came to and the Army corporal checked them in and handed them an envelope with papers in it and told them to follow the yellow line down the hallway to the next station. They left and followed the yellow line. The floor was full of different colored lines that each had its own destiny.

At the end of the yellow line was a room and they were told to remove their clothes down to their under shorts and to enter the next room. There a medical doctor gave them a quick exam. He checked their pulses, blood pressure and probed their ears and noses with his scope. He checked their heart rates and then asked them to remove their shorts where he grabbed their testicles and told them to cough. When he was done they were told to dress and he wrote something down on the forms and put them back into the envelope. The clerk handed the envelopes back and told them to follow the green line.

For the next several hours they followed lines of many different colors, each time ending up with some sort of exam that was very brief. The process was very degrading. The matter was made worse by the presence of many young men who were there against their wills and were resistant to just about everything being done. There was enormous tension in the air from the draftees.

When they were finally done with the medical and dental exams they were given a chit that would allow them to eat at a local cafeteria that was just around the corner. The two took their chits and walked over to Corky’s Cafeteria. Along the walk they mused about the atmosphere in the processing center and how humiliating the whole experience was: Dave, can you believe that doctor grabbed our balls and asked us to cough? They both avoided speaking about the previous night’s experiences.

When they arrived at Corky’s they were starving since they had not eaten since the night before and Dave had not even eaten when Bob had his Big Mac. They walked into the building and grabbed a tray and then started to look at the selections. The pair was surprised to see the disgusting poor displays of food, none of which was very desirable looking. The cafeteria was dirty too. It looked like a place that the hobo’s ate at when they scrounged up some change from somebody. They ended up selecting meatloaf and mashed potatoes and picked out some cake as a dessert. Some of the draftees were yelling at the servers, as they realized this was a real dive and the food was terrible. Bob and Dave sat at one of the tables and there was dried food stuck on the tabletop. The seats felt sticky. Dave looked at his fork and saw food sticking to the tines. They just got up and threw the food out and left the building without eating. They walked back to the processing center and checked back in.

The two sat in a room that was where the Marine recruits were sitting. Finally, after what seemed like forever, a captain came into the room and announced that he was there to give the oath and ordered everyone to stand up and stand at attention. He directed them to repeat after him and to use their own names. He then read the oath, which everyone repeated. When he was done they were officially entered into the United States Marine Corps. They would shortly be boarding a bus that would take them to Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego, where they would begin their basic training. The pair knew that they were going to make it in the Marines since they felt they had already proven their worth the night before. At 4:45 PM the call was made for the Marine recruits to board the Greyhound that was parked in front of the building. All the young men in the room left and boarded the bus. Bob and Dave sat next to each other about midway inside the bus.

The trip to San Diego was tedious as there were lots of cars on the highway and traffic seemed to crawl. The freeway was under construction at some points and they just seemed to sit there. Most of the men on the bus were enlistees, but some of them had been drafted. The draftees were the loudest on the bus. They made it known that they did not appreciate being forced to fight a war they did not believe in, especially being thrown into the Marine Corps. Some of the guys had transistor radios and listened to rock and roll music. Bob heard another news report about the heinous slaughters that took place the night before in Fresno. The news indicated no suspects and the whole town being horrified by what happened.

It was 8:45 PM when the bus finally rolled up to the front gate of MCRD. The sentry waived the bus through and it wound its way through the base.