"... dreaming of peace." -anonymous
Mom,
I just finished a letter to Bernie, so if for some reason this reaches you before his, tell him it's on the way.
A couple of the guys' tours are almost up and they'll be leaving by the end of the month. Patrol's have become hell for them. Our sergeant hasn't been pushing them as hard as usual, but still, we work hard. Their worst fear is to get shot, or worse, get in some accident and die before they get to go home. I can only imagine now what that must be like, but I know my turn will come soon enough.
The guys who have been in country for quite some time are talking about the rainy season. It should come by the end of the month as well. From what they say, it's a few months of being wet and muddy. To be honest, I think I might enjoy it if it ends this horrid dry heat. The other day, a jeep overheated and the whole front exploded. Luckily, the men who had been in it had just parked and were walking away. Still, the one caught shrapnel on his back and legs. I heard he's in the hospital and they took most of it out.
So far, out of five patrols, we haven't made contact with the enemy, NVA or VC (Viet Cong- sometimes the guys call them "Charlie", short for "Victor Charlie"). I can't say if that makes me happy or disappointed. I don't want to take part in this killing, but I feel that it is inevitable. There will come a day, a patrol, where we, I will have to fire my weapon, if only so I can live. Last night I put voice to these fears while talking with David and it made for very solemn conversation. He told me that the man I had replaced had been in country for seven months, a little over halfway through his tour. When David first came to the unit, this man was the kindest one David had ever met and immediately took DAvid under his wing, showing him the ropes and watching out for him on patrol. The first time they made contact, it was at night and David froze, but this man, Horvitz, talked him through the whole thing. The day Horvitz was wounded, David said the only thing he could think about was Horvitz's kids that he had seen in pictures. All he could do was look after Horvitz and shoot at the VC while waiting for the medic to make his way over. I don't want to be like that, like David, watching over a good man while killing others. They must be just like us, right? A family at home, kids, a wife, mother and father, maybe siblings? They must sit like I am now and write to their families. I don't want to have to kill another good man, simply because he might kill me.
It seems to me that the politicians don't know any of this, sending young men, boys really, to kill each other. I'm afraid, Mom. I promise to watch out, but... I don't want to kill someone just to stay alive. Why can't we just go out there and come back and say we killed VC or NVA without actually doing so?
Your loving son,
John
P.S. I'm terribly sorry if this upsets you, but I needed to tell someone and I don't think Bernie would understand.