Cold and Wet

Today the men and I spent time looking in the fields for Kiowa’s body.  The weather was cold and rainy.  It was slippery wet mud everywhere we walked.  Some places we walked we would have to walk with mud all the way up to our wastes.  After some time we eventually found his foot and had to dig his body out of the mud.  A boy was looking for a picture of a girl that was his ex-girlfriend.  He knew he let Kiowa look at it and figured he still had in his pocket or something.  I told the boy just to send a letter to the girl and get a new one.  He said she wouldn’t because she found someone else.  I let him search for it.  I started to write a letter to Kiowa’s father. It was very difficult for me; I didn’t know what to write to him.  Being here in the rain loosing my men has been making me so upset.  I no longer want to be here.  I don’t want to be the one in charge of leading these men.  I guess I never wanted this but I knew its what I have to do.  I dream about how bad I want to go back home to New Jersey.  I think about the sun beating down and the grass so lush and green.  I would be on the golf course that afternoon.  I want out of this war now.

Monks

Yesterday the men and I showed up at what seemed to be abandoned place.  We were someplace west of the Batangan peninsula.  There were some monks living there.  Before we actually knew about the monks living there we started to make camp.  We dug foxholes in their yard.  We started making it our own place to stay.  When they made an appearance to us they weren't angry at us at all for making holes in there yard.  More like they treated us in like guests.  They bowed to us. After a while they brought us into there pagoda.  Inside it was dark and cold.  The ceiling had holes in it, and the windows were falling apart. It was calming and very welcoming though.  The head monk wanted me to sit in his chair.  So I decided to do what he wanted and sit in the chair.  You could tell he was very proud that I sat in his chair.  They brought us clean water and fresh watermelon.   The monks barely spoke any English.  Even though they didn’t understand us they were very respectful and left us alone when we were discussing important topics.  We all felt very welcomed by the monks. 

How would my life be different

As I am here across seas, in Vietnam, I wonder how my life would have been different if I wasn't here.  I go day after day carrying letters from Martha.  I wonder if we would have been more than friends.  After I left her, that day at the college, I didn’t want to say I bye I wanted her to be mine.  When she writes me she always says love Martha.  I wish that it was she loved me the way I love her.  I carry two photos of Martha with me. One photo is of her leaning against a brick wall.  Then the other is a snapshot of her from the year book.  She is so beautiful I would do anything to have her. She is my motivation to keep pushing through the long days.  I know after a hard day on the job I can rinse my hands off with my canteen water and look at those photos.  Then I will read her letters over again and again.  I will then hold them closely to me.  I hope for one day that I will be able to go home and Martha and I can be more than friends.

Its my fault

 Today was a day full of mixed emotions.  One of my men, Ted Lavender, was shot and killed.  Kiowa was the only person to witness it. He said Lavender was shot while coming back after going to the bathroom.  Kiowa was taking it pretty hard he kept telling everyone how Lavender went down like a big sandbag.  I feel like it’s my fault.  It was me who kept thinking about a rock Martha had sent me in her last letter.  I just thought it was so romantic that she had thought to send me a rock. I had made it my good luck charm.  I should have been paying attention to Lavender and not having my mind somewhere else.  Today I got so upset I burned all my letters Martha has ever sent to me.  Then I burned the two pictures I had of Martha too.  I keep blaming myself.  Lavender was dead and it was because I put a women before my men.  I now realize I can’t just burn the pain away its still there.  I can still see Martha there with me.  I want her to just disappear from my mind I hate her. I hate love.  I am going to try even harder to be a better leader to protect the guys in my platoon.