Tear Stained Letters

by LSMunch

This was the end of his childhood, the jungle of transition into adulthood that he had fought through. Lifting the first one from the pile, he noted the date, the worn paper, the water stains that had made the ink run a bit.

21. Letter 21

It was just (about) surviving. Save your friends, you save yourself, and it didn't matter about anything else- the United States, Mom, apple pie, the girl you left behind- all that stuff was just for movies and books... The rest of it was just living from one second to the next and hoping that the seconds added up to minutes and hours and days and months so you could go home. -Marine veteran Ralph Strang

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Mom,

We went on a patrol last night with men from the other unit I told you about. One of them got hit in some action we caught. It wasn't that bad and our medic patched him up well enough so he could walk back to the LZ with us. Me and a couple other guys had to give him what was left of our water, but I didn't mind and I don't think they did either. Out here, we're like brothers. If we weren't, things would certainly be harder.

Later today, our machine gunner, Bruce Greenwood, and I have watch down by the road. We have to search any Vietnamese that pass. On one hand, I rather not seeing as most of them aren't that bad, but then, there's always the chance that they're helping the local VC or worse, they are VC. It gets tiring sometimes, trying to communicate to them that we're just searching them and then they can move on their way. I have a feeling that Bruce will take some of the stress off by joking. He's scary when you first meet him, but once you do, he's hilarious. He's one of those guys that knows how to tell a funny story just perfect, to make it seem ten times funnier, even if you were there whenever the events of the story took place.

The colonel is worried that we're going to get hit with some heavy mortar and/or rocket fire tonight or tomorrow. According to him, the NVA follow some sort of pattern. If you ask me, I think he just wants a reason to build better bunkers to save his own skin when they hit us again. The guy's a real piece of work. Luckily, that's the biggest fuss he makes. I don't think he's ever been in the jungle, or walked through rice paddies, or explained to scared villagers that we don't want to hurt them while pointing a formidable looking weapon at them. Something, if you look at the way things are going over here, it's no wonder we're losing.

Bruce is calling. Says the sergeant wants us out at our post early.

Your loving son,

John