Harris turned his head, squinting out through the wire covered bar window and out onto the busy street of Da Nang. His eyes were caught by a passing women in a red dress, white flowers painted across it, her hair done up in a bun on her head and sitting on the bridge of her nose a pair of sunglasses. A smirk came to his face and he nodded his head. His eyes drifting down to her legs, "Jesus."

He took in a long deep breath before the clearing of his throat brought him back to what he was doing, reading the paper and having a drink of whatever piss they were serving at this GI only bar. Every drink here was garbage and everything was up priced into the roof, only the good shit was served for the poker games that were held in the back. A smirk came to his face as last week's game came rushing into his head, he'd made a killing that night and almost got himself killed by a couple of very pissed of MPs.

He looked down at the paper that on his crossed leg, the title reading, 'BOMBING IN DOWNTOWN SAIGON' his eyes skimmed over the report, a few GIs were killed, some civis too, might have been a suicide attack.

He shrugged and reached over, pinching the page and pulling it over, not exactly reading at this point more finding something to look at. Geovanna had sent him a letter around two weeks ago, apparently some guy had been talking her up lately and she was getting friendly with him, 'don't worry, he's an alright guy,' and 'oh he's so sweet, you two would love each other.'

He'd definitely drunk more than he should have that night to the point he spent a day in the base hospital. He knew the effect she'd had on people and he wasn't surprised, he was meant to come home four months ago but his platoon was stepped up after a few attacks in the Quang Nam province. NLF had stepped up and were launching attacks on a few FOBs and FSBs in the area so they were on more S&D missions as of late. All leave was cancelled and even rotations home were suspended as 3rd Platoon had rotated out and were due back until next month, it was all types of fucked up.

Luckily only a few have been injured and only two killed in their platoon over the last few months of their extra service so it wasn't that bad casualty wise but fuck, after that letter Harris had started to spiral, turning into a husk of a man. Gambling and drinking a hell of a lot more and though he could gamble like a pro and practically con God out of his immortal soul once he got wasted he couldn't win to save his life.

He let out a sigh and reached across the table, picking up the off orange glass and raised it to his lips, sipping at the now lukewarm beer, Jesus that was horrible. He shook his head and closed the paper, folding it up and sitting it onto the wooden table.

His eyes were drawn again out the fly wire, searching the streets for something, anything to take his mind off of the mess in his head. His eyes landed on a young Vietnamese guy, he was nice enough, slim face, skinny arms, legs like a dame. Jesus what the fuck was with Vietnam and having strangly attractive guys and gals. His eyes wandered away to some whore that was walking behind him, short dress, fish nets, cut off top, tits practically hanging out, that was GI bait right there.

He sighed and looked away, maybe spending a night in a red room wasn't a bad idea. With leave now back on he had two days before he had to throw back on his flak jacket. He stood up and picked up his cap, taking one last swing of his piss beer and set off for something, absolutely fucking ANYTHING to keep him mind off that fucking letter.

As he stepped out, two men, dark hair, yellow skin bumping into him, "Hey watch it!" He turned, throwing out his arms. He shook his head and stepped away, walking down the sidewalk and stopping at the crosswalk. He dug through his pocket and pulled out the packet of Newports in his top pocket, flicking open the top of the box and shaking the packet, clamping down on the filter of one. He turned his head as he heard some commotion from inside the bar and shrugged.

He reached into the packet and took out the Zippo that was sitting nice and snug inside, flicking open the lighter with a satisfying clang before he struck the igniter.

An explosion erupted from the bar, Harris ducking on instinct and hitting the pavement. The wire that covered the windows were sent flying out in little pieces, acting like pellets from a shotgun, parts of the concrete walls were sent in all directions, rebar sent hurtling, almost whistling into the surrounding street, the inhabitants inside disappeared into the sudden flames of the explosion, the heat was immense as what looked like fire burst out of the doors and windows, almost like it was an incendiary bomb.

Harris's ears rang and it took him a minute to gather what was left of his wits, his arms were on fire and his hands felt numb. He lifted his head from the pavement to get a look, his eyes going wide as he looked at his arms, filled with shrapnel, glass, rebar, concrete, chicken wire and fuck knows whatever else. Crimson ran down from the wounds, pooling just under his arms. Maybe it was the adrenaline but he couldn't feel it.

He sat up onto his knees, looking around, soaking in the carnage. Vietnamese civilians and GI's laid around, some screaming for help and others laying motionless, a women lay in the gutter not to far from his, her body twisted and broken, bits of debris lodged right into his side and a large bit of rebar stuck out of his head, his eyes were drawn to the blue wrap that lay next to her, his stomach dropping as he stood to walk over and get a better look. Laying in that wrap, a baby, its small face filled with a variety of shrapnel, its head lay in a small pool of blood.

He turned to look behind him, his eyes being drawn to what looked like a small group of people, most of them women, some of them lay on the ground writhing in pain and others lay dead. His eyes were drawn to two US airmen, one lay on his back, his glossy eyes staring up into the sky and the other holding in his stomach, blood pooling from his mouth. His looked at another pair of GIs, two Army soldiers, it was strange.

One side, they looked perfectly fine whilst the other, their entire fronts were burned to near charcoal, like a piece of meat on a stove, one side raw, the other side…

He felt a hand on his shoulder before being spun around, a South Vietnamse Quan Canh waiting for him. His mouth moved but nothing came out, that was until he started yelling, it was distant, but it was coming back to him, "What happened here Sergeant!?" He finally got through.

"Bomb! I don't know who did it!" He said, or maybe it was yelled. He felt like he was yelling. The MP nodded his head before quickly moving away, kneeling down to help a men on the ground, his arm hanging by a tendon.

Harris stood there, soaking in the absolute destruction of the scene, smoke emitted from inside the building, billowing up through the destroyed overhang, moving up through the holes of the metal and up into the blue sky.

Geovana sighed and leaned back, holding a hand to her face. The picture on the front cover of the newspaper wasn't the thing concerning her but the lack of response from Harris. It'd been a month since she'd sent that letter to Harris and this information about this bombing was only just getting to the states. Her stomach churned at the thought of him being caught in that explosion. Twenty people had been killed and around sixty injured. Maybe he was there, maybe he wasn't.

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands, the sound of a door opening caught her attention, a man in jeans a simple shirt stood leaning in through the front door, frozen as she stared at him, "Is… This a bad time?" He tilted his head.

Geovana shook her head and sat back, the sound of footsteps coming closer caught her attention slightly, stopping just behind her. Two hands sitting themselves on her shoulders, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." She nodded before standing, the hands dropping as she stood and moving around, "Everything is fine." She moved forward, wrapping her arms around him.

From down the hall through the crack of a door, Kassy watched as Geovana leaned into the man, her stomach dropped and and her eyes were cast downwards, her mind went back to the times she saw her brother and Geovana happy but since this guy stepped into their lives she'd talked less and less about her brother and more and more about this guy. She closed the door and moved to her desk, past her toys and school bag, pulling out the chair that was pushed against the desk and sat down, her eyes were drawn to the photo of Harris holding her on his arm in his dress uniform and Geovana standing next to him, clinging to his other arm, all three smiling. Her eyes drifted to the calendar, "BIRTHDAY!" The 28th.

Quan Canh - South Vietnamese Military Police

FSB - An FSB or Fire Support Base is in simple terms, an Artillery base. Normally in range of an FOB for quick and easy fire support and also sector denial.

FOB - An FOB or Forward Operating Base is a troop base. House both troops and pilots alike, these bases are used for patrols and other missions. The home of the standard infantry soldier.

GI - General Issue. The standard slang for a US Infantry Soldier.

Apologies for the absence of updates however I've been preoccupied with other things. This chapter was pretty heavy and I understand if it made people uncomfortable. During the Vietnam war, bombings were carried out by the North against the South against GI Bars or other US/RVN areas such as embassies, bases and so on, these often resulted in Civilian casualties which sadly included Children. These were often carried out by Radicals or on orders to the VC Regional Forces. The war tore families apart, many soldiers left their loved ones to fight and many came back to empty apartments and broken hearts, soldiers often received "Dear John" letters, these were essentially letters sent from a girlfriend or wife to tell their partner their relationship was over. This war broke many soldiers for a number of reasons, and having your loved ones leave you when they're needed the most is one of the worst.