A Matter of Honor

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The young soldier was shot three times in the back from a passing car as he swayed and urinated into a vacant lot on Chicago’s south side. Ballistics determined later that Private Randolph Lewis, identified by fingerprints, was killed instantly by two .45 bullets which smashed into his neck and shoulders. Lab reports disclosed a high mix of alcohol and narcotics in the black soldier’s bloodstream.

An old wino heard the shots, watched a car turn out of sight a half block beyond a row of darkened buildings and a pair of bright ribs-and-beer bars. Slumped in the doorway of a burnt-out hand laundry, the drunken man listened with a vacant smile as echoes of shots exploded like firecrackers in his head. A pair of hookers in skinny boots and short leather skirts saw the soldier pitch forward into the weeds just down the street from a bar called The Studsville. The winking neon sign glazed their impassive brown faces with glittering reflections.

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