posted on Oct, 29 2007 @ 08:21 PM
Dark. Very dark.
The jungle canopy blots
out all but glimpses of the
Sweat trickles down my nose.
I wish each drop a safe trip.
It's quiet. Not even the freakin
bugs are talking.
I slowly put the StarLight to my
Nice camp. Even has a hooch
off the ground. Lucky bastard.
I hear Cpl. Jones mumbling.
God, I love that guy. Talks the
coord's to himself.
I glance over at him. A green
cayalume is illuminating a map
on the ground half under him.
His tent-half covering them.
I look back to the hooch.
No idea why this guy is so precious.
Got orders on him. So, he is.
And, I see him.
Walks on to what amounts to a
porch, of his hooch. 1200 meters,
I grin and click my heels together.
Seconds seem like hours.
I hear Cpl. Jones key the PRC-77
three times. Mic open, third time.
Barely audible porno music comes
I grin. Blackie pilots are the sh**.
Dude is still at his hooch.
I hear Jones flip the PRC off.
All is quiet.
Jones mumbles some more, I grin.
I feel, more than hear the approach.
It rumbles your guts. A good rumble.
I see the S.O.B. on his porch realise
what fear truly is.
I flick the StarLight off, and watch.
After, Jones and I sleep.
With a night light on.
My stories won't (can't) be in chrono-
logical order. They'll be told, as I can