Hanoi MAG

November 21, 2017
By kdillon3249 BRONZE, Gilford, New Hampshire
kdillon3249 BRONZE, Gilford, New Hampshire
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Hunkered down, tangled in mangrove roots, I ravage
what’s left of my C Ration. My ears scan
the jungle for VC
behind the constant ringing in my head.
The unbelievable cacophony of war still
manifesting itself in my mind.
Yesterday Sgt. Brown had his legs
blown off by a landmine
barely 10 feet in front of me.
Yesterday, Sarge. Monday –
two cherry-faced recruits, not even 18
Sunday, we hit them with napalm
Thatched huts burned orange
Farmers danced in the flames
But all I could smell now was Sarge’s seared flesh, and all I could hear
was that pop, and the few seconds of silent confusion before the onset of screams.
It surely gave one of those animals hiding
in the jungle some sort of twisted sense
of achievement.
He told us about his son days before,
about how
he wanted him to be a warrior just like him.
Just like his father, his grandfather, great-grandfather.
Generations raised by the last, never learning.
War will never change
And neither will we.


The author's comments:

I was inspired to write this piece after watching a documentary on the horrors of the Vietnam War. So many lives lost in a war that we didn't have to be fought.


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This article has 1 comment.


RoAliha GOLD said...
on Feb. 15 at 10:32 am
RoAliha GOLD, Oakland, New Jersey
12 articles 0 photos 3 comments
This is absolutely amazing. I had family that fought in Vietnam. The ending is hauntingly beautiful, the imagery is very detailed. I love this.


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