Look! I wrote something *cheers*! Actually it was pretty much required. This was an assignment after reading the book Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers- go check it out- it's a really good book for being a war story (which I don't usually like).

Okay - this takes place during the Vietnam War - for those of you who don't know it was the war between the US and the North Vietnamese in our attempt to stop their spread of communism to the South. All of the fighting took place in the South where the US troops were stationed - there we mostly fought against the VC or Charlie (South Vietnamese who fought for the North). We lost, badly.

The content within can be taken as either slash-y or a deep bond of friendship. So I warned you - therefore if you don't like slash (male x male material) you have no reason to be offended. ^^

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Soldier

This wasn't a game. This was war. When people died here they died for real- no coming back. Philly and Jake weren't coming back. And yet here I was; a part of this. Too deep to try and claw my way to the surface.

I've been in this hellish place for almost eight months now, and have neither the slightest clue nor the want to know how I've survived this long. Hopefully I'll still make it to my 18th birthday in May. I can go home then. (1)

I hate it here. Christmas was three weeks ago. The day before I got a letter from my pa' sayin' he was proud of me. I still haven't written him back yet. It's not that I don't believe what we're doing here is wrong. . . it's just that. . . to be honest, I'm terrified. I've seen death first hand, seen war first hand. Even now I can't seem to grasp how I, Alexander Dorian Coles the third, can see and think and know all that I have here and not be completely numb.

I'd been stationed in Vietnam for almost a month before something actually happened. Our Sergeant, Willem Danes, got shot in the arm. He came back two weeks later with a scabbing wound and a forced smile. Two days shortly after he died from a bullet to the head. I don't think I slept for a week following that. My bunk mate Stash finally forced me to go to the hospital tent. He had to practically carry me there. They gave me sleeping pills, a glass of water, and told me to find a cot. There were only two left open, in the three rows of ten.

It's January now. Vietnam's dry season. Their seasons are all screwed up- backwards from the World's. The air is hottest between now and March. It burns when I swallow in gulps of air- feels like my throat's on fire. I'd pray for rain, but somehow I think it'd be wasted that way. It rained on Christmas. It came down in a cloudburst and continued for almost five hours. Mud from the surrounding hills coagulated upon the base of our encampment. For all the trees they used to have here erosion's still a problem. Then and again, the pesticides we spray on their jungles don't seem to help. (2)

Two more men from my squad died yesterday. Philly Pierce and Jake Simmons. This was different than with Sergeant Danes. I knew them, saw them die. I wasn't sure I understood it, though.

"Alex!"

I looked up from my position on the bottom bunk. It was Stash, his dark brown hair a mess of short sweaty curls. "Yeah?"

"Come on man. Sergeant Davies," the Sergeant who replaced Danes, "says we're headed out."

"So soon?" He knew I was referring to yesterday.

He paused and then nodded his head, but wouldn't meet my eyes. His own light blue ones focused instead on another empty bunk.

". . .Tell him I'm coming."

He nodded again and flashed me a somewhat-strained smile of perfect white teeth, before he ducked his tall frame under and out of the tent. Stash was better than I at this. better with war, better with feelings and emotions, better with death. But. perhaps he was just better at hiding. Hiding the way he really felt.

I sat up, climbing out from underneath the upper bunk, grabbed my gear and made my way outside. The squad was gathered off to the right. They were waiting for me.

We were headed north-east toward Loc Ninh, approximately a hundred kilometers from Saigon. (3) This would be our most dangerous mission yet; the Ho Chi Minh trail emptied out in several places less than 20 kilometers to the north. (4)

We crossed the Rach Thi Nghe River. It was mostly dry-- random puddles of brown water evaporating in the sun. The river bed was cracked, and crumbled under my feet. I wondered briefly why I was looking at the ground and not watching for Charlie. (5)

Suddenly there was an explosion of sound from out in front of us, from where the river veered off, creating a blind spot. The squad scattered. Half to one side of the river bank, half to the other. From what I could see it didn't look like anyone was hurt. Yet.

I quickly looked around for Stash. He was no where in sight.

My M-16 grew heavy in my arms as I picked it up off the ground. (6) I couldn't remember dropping it though.

I still didn't see any actual VC, only hear the shots they fired. In return I shot my own round off in the generally direction of the river bend.

"Move back!" It was Sergeant Davies. He was on the other side of the river. Only faintly did I actually hear his call but I yelled out to the others on my side and we traveled quickly back the way we came. A distance down the river I stopped. The others stopped with me. I could see Davies and the others now trying to make their way back across. I suddenly felt childish for running.

We met half way, and Davies quickly counted heads. We could still hear the VC firing a ways behind us.

"We can't see them. What are we supposed to do?"

"It's nothing we haven't experienced before, boys. We just didn't expect them to have traveled this far in," Davies said swiftly. It was best to keep everyone calm.

"But there must be a whole battalion from the number of shots they fired off!"

"It's okay Private. We've got this. Now that we've re-grouped lets take the left side back up. Move out." That was an order.

We turned in unison and cautiously made our way back up the river. The firing had stopped. Sergeant Davies held up one hand in a signal to pause. A loud boom went off about two or so hundred yards in front of us.

"EVERYONE DOWN! NOW!!"

I fell as quickly as I could to my knees and then to my stomach, covering my head. Seconds later the ground ahead of us exploded.

"They have an RPG?!" (7)

We were being fired upon again. All at once there were bullets flying everywhere. Beside me I noticed Stash, face-down, in the grass. He turned. His light-colored eyes met mine. He didn't look injured. Only shocked. I reached out and grabbed his hand. I got an answering squeeze in return, before I moved to search for my M-16 with my free hand, while keeping our gazes locked. I'd dropped it again.

Suddenly his stare shifted. His gaze was behind me, overtop of my head. I watched as his eyes widened. As his mouth gaped open and a chocked sound issued forth. I watched. but I didn't see. I turned to see -

~*~*~*~*~

1. Most drafted soldiers only had to serve one year.
2. Agent Orange - An herbicide containing trace amounts of the toxic
contaminant dioxin that was used in the Vietnam War to defoliate areas
of forest.
3. Saigon - formerly a city in South Vietnam; renamed Ho Chi Minh City
after the war.
4. Ho Chi Minh trail - An elaborate system of mountain and jungle trails
linking North Vietnam, South Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos used by the
North Vietnamese during the war against the United States.
5. Charlie/VC - Vietcong - communist Vietnamese, South Vietnamese
fighting for the north.
6. M-16 - Standard gun issued to all soldiers.
7. RPG - Rocket powered grenade. (Not Role Playing Game!!)

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Okay now this can happen in two ways -

I can leave it there- which was the original ending

or

I can continue with one more chapter (within which it will probably get slash-ier --;;)

-- So if tell me what you think - CONTINUE or NO?