The Meadow Literary and Art Journal 2011

and I were coming back from a four-day mission, and that was the closest place to get picked up. We were all heading out the next morning, back to base for a little time off.” “Stone?” Thomas said. “Ya, Stone. That was my partner, my sniping spotter. Anyway, the chopper was picking us up the next morning about a click south of our location. We couldn’t wait to get back. Stone and I ate everything that night.” James let out a little laugh followed by a smirk as if he was right there, reliving the moment. “Being a sniper, you can’t eat most stuff. The oils of the food escape from the pours in your skin and the enemy can smell that, you better believe they can. Can’t take showers either, there’s all kinds of stuff we couldn’t do. But that night, there were no rules. We ate anything we could get our hands on. Man, I woke up around 2am with the shits, I kid you not. I grabbed some T.P. and headed off into the woods. Never had food run through me like that my whole life. I must have been gone for the better part of twenty minutes. Anyway, when I got back to camp I heard something. Feet moving around and what-haveyou. I caught a glimpse of someone run through camp, I couldn’t tell who it was. All I could see were shadows; they were moving this way and that. Immediately I hit the ground, because I knew something was off. I mean when I left no one was up, now all this commotion. I crawled through the bush a little closer, you know, to get a better look.” Thomas nodded at James, his eyes as wide as golf balls. “Man, there must have been ten or fifteen of ’em, Vietcong. They were sneaking around the camp butt ass naked. The only thing they had were their knifes.” “Wait! They were naked?” Thomas said. Not understanding the strange turn in the story. “Ya. Can’t hear em that way. Fuckers used to do it all the time. They’re like little naked fucking ninjas out there. Anyway, in the twenty or so I was gone, they managed to cut the throats of every man in that camp. Not a single shot was fired, not a single man even made it to his weapon. All of ’em, sliced ear to ear. There wasn’t a fucking thing I could do. I just lay there and watched them ravage the camp. Then off into the night like ghosts. I didn’t even have my gun on me.” James was shaking his head now. He was pale in the face, but emotionless, as if the story was told to him and he was just relaying it. “Shit,” Thomas said. The truck was completely silent for the next block until James pulled over to stop number one. Still silent, Thomas hopped out of the truck and made his way to the bank. James didn’t want to talk of Nam or that night. He didn’t sleep well as is, the last thing he needed was to replay it in the day. James knew if he took Thomas someplace dark, he would be less likely to ask James more questions about Nam. James was also not himself today. With his anxiety through the roof James didn’t want Thomas to know anything was up. The rest of the day Thomas was less talkative; he mostly stared out the passenger window and made small talk here and there. James’ plan had worked and for all Thomas knew James was still thinking of that horrible theMeadow 65

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