The Angels of the Battlefield REWRITE

by Rapid Intervention

"We never imagined angels will grace us in these desolate rainforests. Perhaps we need a mental evaluation. But at this point... this war has gotten us so numb, a bunch of teenage angels appearing in Vietnam out of nowhere is nothing but just another bullshit thrown at us." Note: This is a rewrite of my earlier work.

"And when he gets to heaven to St. Peter he will tell: 'Another soldier reporting sir, I've served my time in hell."

Fickle was the world of mortals. A land, imperfect, flawed, and bloodied. Unwelcome to beings from a perfect one. Unstable and wartorn, where death surrounded the soils of green.

A world where men and women would die in gruesome ways. A world where violence would lead to death and suffering.

Haven't you heard it all? The artillery fire? The thunder of guns? The musical orchestra of rockets? The sounds of war machines manned by men of war? The screams of the damned? Haven't you smelt of it? The burning scent of gunpowder and napalm? Of the flesh that had rotted, from men tossed like cattle to a meat grinder?

Welcome to Vietnam.

In the burning forests of Quang Tri, the 2nd Indochinese war raged on. Two giants were engaged in a bloody struggle of death. One nation - two ideologies. The reds or the blues. The eagle or the hammer and sickle. The capitalists or the communists.

And as it all raged on, the mountain of dead piled up.

Here there was no good.

Here there was no honour.

Here there was no innocence.

Here was nothing but organised chaos. Here was where men would show their most primal instinct of violence. Here was where hundreds of thousands died.

Here was only war, and war alone.

Welcome to the rice fields...welcome to Hell.

--

March 30, 1972

Camp Carroll

Heavy artillery began raining down on the ARVN soldiers stationed at the Camp.

The Easter Offensive had begun. Every base and outpost was alight, as the men rushed to defend themselves. All of it happened as the skies rained down munitions above their heads.

All over Quang Tri, both sides were engaged in a deadly battle.

With such an unexpected and swift offensive to an unprepared defender, the fall of Quang Tri was not out of the question.

But that would be unacceptable.

The eagle had responded in kind. American aircraft screeched through the skies as they bombed North Vietnamese positions and formations. Again and again, like a vengeful bird of prey, scores of reds were vanquished by these knights of the skies.

Hours later, in Quang Tri, a squad of US Marines steeled themselves for the upcoming battle. Once more sent again to intervene and tip the tide of war to their side.

As artillery grumbled in the distance, Sergeant Jordan watched the battlefields from their staging areas the sombre silence.

Once more, to hell, they would march again. And his men and his company would be in the thick of it.

"When the hell will all of this end?" He mumbled as F-4s screeched above him. Taking a gum, he slipped it in his mouth and began to chew. Turning around to prepare for the upcoming battle, all his mind thought was simple.

We just need to survive...and return home.

Author's Notes:

- And there you all go! Here begins the rewrite of my old work.