Donny Q by Frank Sonderborg
from Windmills: a PUNK NOIR Magazine series
I wrote to him in Djibouti on a regular basis. Sent him books. Told me he made sergeant. Him making sergeant in the French Foreign Legion was no shock. No surprise, as he was as tough as fuck.
As part of his Legion contract, they'd changed his name when he signed up. From Joe McGrath, to a more English, and very bland, Don Mills.
Don Mills or Donny Q had left a wife and son back in Denmark. Just walked out one day. Wanted excitement. Wanted a war.
Him and his mate Phil Murphy had tried to sign up for the ongoing civil war in Angola, but didn't make the cut. British and Irish recruits were among the mercenaries hired back then by the National Liberation Front of Angola (FNLA) to fight against the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola. Just as well, as a group of British raw recruits, who thought they had signed up as non-combatants, were executed by their own command for refusing to fight.
So, him and Phil headed for France and joined the Foreign Legion. The last chance for bounders, cads and not a few ex-SS Nazis.
I'd met him when we both worked on the oily factory line of a big Danish company. He was ex Irish Army but never got the chance to fight in a war. So, he took his war with him wherever he went.
I stood beside him when he stared down ten of the meanest mother fuckers you could come across. We had accidently wandered into a Biker bar. Wannabe Hells Angels. In the process of chatting up some birds at the bar we were surrounded by these very angry bikers. I was shitting myself. But Donny Q was totally unfazed. Just looked each of them in the eye. One after another. Then pointed at one of them and said, "You, come here."
The shocked guy stepped forward and Donny threw his arms around him and bought him a beer. The danger evaporated. But I knew those bikers felt relieved. Donny Q would have given them a world of pain.
He told me Phil never made it. Died in a Legion training accident. I liked Phil, but he was crazy as fuck. Not suited to the Legion.
One of the books I had sent was Don Quixote. And I called him Donny Q as an insider joke.
I said it was a very apt name, as he had gone through life not so much tilting at windmills, but braking turbine blades over heads.
He had signed up for five years and a French passport when his time was up. But he just couldn't wait.
On leave in France, him and his three-man team attempted to rob an armoured money transport. It went tits up. Two guards killed and Donny Q and his team on the run. The Foreign Legion put out a contract on them all. Kill on sight.
I received random post cards from South America and Africa. Signed with a smiley and a Q. He had an X marked on the first card. And a year later it had two X’s.
It took me a while to work out it was his team getting wacked by the Legion. The Legion, they never forget or forgive.
Anywhere there was some fucked up country with a fucked up civil war. Donny Q was there.
The last card I received was from Burma and had three Xs. They had gotten all his team. So, he was the last one the Legion were chasing.
The years slowly passed by, and I, as you do, went with them. I found myself back in Cork on a family holiday. I left my kids at the mother’s house and took the bus into Cork City centre. The bus conductor took my money and gave me a ticket. I glanced up, and it was him, Donny Q. As I live and breathe. He looked straight through me. That legendary thousand-yard Vietnam Vet stare. I said nothing and left him there.
I contacted his Danish wife and son and told them I'd seen him.
But before they managed to track him down. He was dead.
Natural causes they said.
Did the Legion get their man? I still think of him, as those images unwind, of the Don Mills of my mind.
This story appears as part of Windmills, a PUNK NOIR Magazine series.
Bio
Frank Sonderborg was born in Dublin, Ireland, Shares his time between the UK and Spain. And does his best to write interesting stories. His stories have appeared in: Action: Pulse Pounding Tales 2: Noir Nation 3: Noir Nation 5: Pulp Modern JFK Issue #6, Pulp Alternative, Shadows and Light: Thrills, Kills ‘n’ Chaos: ShotgunHoney, Talkingsoup, Twist and Twain. The Yard Crime Blog and Punk Noir Magazine.
PUNK NOIR, the online literary and arts magazine that looks at the world at its most askew, casting a bloodshot eye over the written word, film, music, television and more.
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You had me at ~ "So he took his war with him wherever he went."
Great Frank'ing tale, good sir.
~ Kate, absolutely
Great story