Sweet the sin
Bitter taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out
You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice
You know I took the poison
From the poison stream
Then I floated out of here
Singing ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ha la la de day
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She runs through the streets
With eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me
White gold and pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging, She is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
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She will
Suffer the needle chill
She’s running to stand still
Running to Stand Still
U2
The world seemed to constantly shift around him; the colors melting into each other like an impressionist painting. The room was a simple cube shape without lights, and yet he could distinctly see the walls around him. The walls were textured with lines that ran throughout the room. These lines seemingly connected some parts of the room with other parts, and while any sort of pattern escaped him, there was a parallel flow to the lines as they branched and came back together. Surprising hues of blue, gold and magenta manifested in the contours of his surroundings; like those seen in the curvatures of a soap bubble, and yet like a soap bubble there was a translucency to the room in which he found himself. Underneath the dazzling colors the walls moved with a constant stream of numbers and symbols. Curious, he tried to move towards the wall directly in front of him only to find that he in fact could not move. Alarmed, he began to struggle against his invisible restraints as panicked thoughts struggled to form in his mind.
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Where am I?I… Wait, WHO am I?
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Fear and confusion threatened to overwhelm him but before they could, the room was flooded with illumination without a source. The light seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, and as he wondered on this new development a sharp pain overtook him. If he could have, he would have screamed from the intensity of the sensation. He simultaneously felt his body being ripped apart and the sharp burn of electricity coursing through every fiber of his being. As soon as it had started it was over, and while it had lasted only a fraction of a second it took him a little while for him to recover mentally from the experience.
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When he was again able to focus he saw that he was now not alone in the room and was staring into the lifeless face of another man. At first he attempted to say something to his new companion but found that he could not speak. Disappointed he looked closer at the man in front of him. There was a ghastly wound on his face where it seemed a bullet had exited his head through one of his eyes. The stranger had short chestnut hair with downcast hazel eyes and a thin mustache. The man wore a dark black suit and like the walls, numbers and symbols seemed to flow under the surface of his skin and clothing. As he looked upon the rigid corpse a disturbing realization came upon him.
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That is me… Am I dead? Have I died?
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What he thought must be his body began to slide towards one wall and in a flash of light disappeared from view. Once again alone, the numbers flowing under the walls now seemed to flow towards him. As he wondered at his own mortality and what was happening to him, new thoughts suddenly began to take hold and solidify in his mind.
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Allen… my name is Allen. I’m 22. I like playing the guitar. I wish I had my guitar now, but it’s back in The States. They wouldn’t let me bring it with me. It was too big. Perhaps I can buy one when I get back to Saigon, if I make it back to Saigon…
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Allen Gennis awoke on his army green cot to the sweltering humidity of the pre-dawn jungle. Against the constant hiss of jungle insects and animals, he became aware of the comforting noises of the American base which had been carved out of the jungle. He heard the soft pops of gunfire, the deep thumps of helicopter blades, the chattering of men and the soft sounds of rock music coming through a raspy radio. The inescapable smell of GSR and BO permeated the barracks. As Allen shook off the remnants of the very strange dream, he looked up to the barrack ceiling and the revolving fans that moved air around the room but utterly failed to cool it. He licked his lips and groaned as he finally sat up, swinging his legs to the side of the cot. His metal dog tags clanged together and they swung against his bare chest. A yawn snuck up on him as he wiped the remnants of sleep and sweat from his face.
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Even after a full nights rest, Allen still felt tired. A full year tour of duty Incountry will do that, but Allen would not have to wait much longer to be on the freedom bird back home. He had only one more mission before his tour was up. He should have been excited but the disturbing imagery of his dream clung to his psyche like the cautionary fairy tales you hear as a child. Seeing himself as a corpse had shaken him. The obvious violence in his own death seemed so relevant to this place and yet somehow removed. He shook his head again to rid himself of these morbid thoughts as he stood to make ready for the day.
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He squared away his cot and picked his way between the rows of cots, some of them occupied some of them not, towards the showers. He showered even though the humidity seemed to negate any cleaning affect that it might have offered him and dressed. Allen had allowed his hair to grow past regulation length and he wondered how he had gotten away with it for so long. He brushed it back and then shaved leaving a thick bushy mustache behind. He exited the barracks, with his gear lazily thrown over his shoulder. He pulled a cigarette from the pack attached to his helmet and lit it as he made his way to the hanger where the birds were housed and maintained.
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The sun was beginning to crest over the jungle skyline but a majority of the sky remained grey in the early morning light. While the humidity was constant, the temperature was still fairly nice in the pre-dawn light. As soon as the sun pushed above the horizon the temperature would become unbearable. He entered the hanger and threw his gear to the ground in front of his gunship while placing a hand reverently on the silhouette of a hawk painted on front of the well equipped helicopter.
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“Morning short timer, it’s about time you got your lazy ass out of bed.” his co-pilot, Bernard said from under the tail of the AH-1 Cobra in a thick New York Italian accent.
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“Lazy? It’s still Zero-Dark Thirty you petulant asshole.” Allen responded with a smile. Barnard was fairly short, as far as men were concerned, and lean with a pale skin tone that bordered on yellow. His eyes were grey under a heavy brow. His light brown hair was trimmed just above his ears and puffed out from his head. A thick mustache sat below his long angled nose and completely swallowed his upper lip from view. Bernard had been his co-pilot for little over four months now and had become a close friend and confidant. He was brilliant, and his tactical knowledge had saved their asses more than once. Allen would miss him terribly when he returned to The States.
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Allen immediately went to work with Bernard preparing the gunship for the mission. They checked the engines and went through their flight plan. They were to deliver First Platoon from C Company to My Lai and then provide air support. My Lai was a small village in a hamlet on the coast of South Vietnam and a suspected base of operations for the remnants of the Viet Cong in the province. While civilians undoubtedly lived in the village, recon said that they would be gone to market at the time of the attack. It wasn’t until they were going through their final pre-flight checks that Dunham, their cherry gunman, finally decided to show up.
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Allen called out to him, “You’re late fresh meat!”
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Dunham responded, fatigue evident in his voice, “Is it my fault that I was up half the night looking for a left-handed monkey wrench that you told me to find?”
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Bernard attempted to hold back a snicker but failed miserably. Allen’s lips tightened as he tried to maintain a straight face. “And where is it?”
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“Man, you know it doesn’t exist!” Dunham responded irritably as he climbed into the back of the gunship. At this, Bernard could no longer contain his laughter and even Allen smiled. “One of the base camp commandos took pity on me and told me the truth. Turns out, there ain’t no such thing as a left-handed monkey wrench! Man it ain’t funny.”
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“Don’t get your panties in a twist Dunham. It’s something that we do to all the fresh meat.” Allen responded as Bernard continued to unabashedly laugh.
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Dunham began to check the large machine guns attached to the helicopter as Bernard turned around in his seat to look at him. “Look at it this way; At least you were too busy to think about how Jody was shagging your girl last night.”
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Dunham punched the seat, “Man shut up!”
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“Alright, settle down ladies. First Platoon will be here at 0900. We need to get this bird fired up before then.” Allen said in a commanding tone. Both Bernard and Dunham went about their duties and soon they were ready to move the helicopter out of the hanger to the tire mac. First platoon arrived right on time and it wasn’t long before842Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAzGlJUa8J6
Allen and his crew were in the air, flying over the jungles of Vietnam.
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It took nearly an hour for them to reach My Lai and as the jungle flowed past them towards the horizon, Allen listened to the conversations of First Platoon in his head set. What he heard was nothing new. The entire base had been abuzz with rage. Over the last three months there had been no direct contact with the enemy and yet Charlie Company had lost 28 men to booby traps. The men of First platoon wanted retribution just like everyone else in the company and they felt like today they would finally get some.
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When they finally arrived, Allen circled the seemingly quiet village before setting down in the pre-decided LZ. The blades thumped through the air loudly blowing the tall grasses and palms around violently as First Platoon expertly disembarked and formed a parameter around the gunship. When everyone was safely on the ground Allen lifted the bird off of the ground and, once in the sky, he began to circle the perimeter of the village.
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“Gunship three circling, patrolling the perimeter for hostiles.” Allen spoke into his headset. Other helicopters began to circle with him in formation after they too had landed in the LZ dropping off their load. Allen followed the river to the sea looking for possible combatants who might attack and ambush C Company, but the jungle and river were eerily quiet.
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After patrolling the shoreline, Allen turned the helicopter back towards the village only to see a plume of smoke rising from the village. As he approached the smoking village he had a strange sense of de ja vu. Allen recalled looking down on another city by the sea that had reached towards the sky with plumes of smoke and had called out with softly murmured screams. Unlike now, it had been early morning and cold… Perhaps in time, scars, like victories will fade.
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Allen was pulled out of his remembrance by the sharp pops of machine gun fire. He looked down on the village and saw Vietnam villagers, some women and children, running towards the jungle line only to tumble forward in bloody summersaults as his countrymen opened fire on their fleeing backsides. Other villagers stood at gun point in ditches as hostages as their homes burned around them. Allen didn’t see a single combatant or a gun that wasn’t held by a US trooper.
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Bernard voiced Allen’s revulsion. “What the hell? What are they doing?”
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Allen, with his mouth hanging open, replied, “I dunno man, but this is beyond FUBAR.” As the words exited his mouth, a group of soldiers opened fire on the unarmed group in the ditch turning it into an effective mass grave.
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Dunham spoke now as Bernard raised his hand to cover his mouth in shock, “Fuck man! Can they do that?”
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Allen decided to land his helicopter, “No Dunham, they can’t do that.”
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Allen set down the helicopter, only slightly aware of someone speaking to him through his headset. Someone from one of the other choppers was asking what he was doing, but Allen ignored him as he turned the engine off. He screamed into his headset before taking it off, “Dunham, stay with the bird. Bernard, with me.”
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The smell of burning palm wood filled the air, stinging his eyes and scratching his throat. The heat from the burning homes mingled with the natural humidity to create a scalding atmosphere that was difficult to breathe. The fires crackled and roared and it seemed to silence the normally vocal jungle. What would normally be a buzz of animal sounds now only acted as a silent witness to the violence unfolding in the village.
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The GI’s on the ground were relaxed and smiling as they pointed their guns at the few surviving terrified villagers. One soldier pulled what looked to be a teenage girl from a group of hostages. She cried and pleaded in Vietnamese as the soldier dragged her away from her screaming kinsmen. Throwing her on the ground, he pointed his gun at her and ordered her to take off her clothes. None of the other soldiers even paid any attention. Allen could understand blind angry violence, but the callous indifference exhibited by the rest of the soldiers stunned him.
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He ran to the soldier and grabbed his arm, saying, “Stand down soldier! This is not the fucking mission!”
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Before the soldier could respond both of their attentions were drawn by gunfire, as the last group of civilians were fired upon. Allen left the soldier alone as he ran towards the bloodshed yelling, “Cease fire! Cease fire!” He descended on one young sergeant and grabbing the man’s shirt screamed, “What the FUCK do you think you are doing Sergeant.”
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The man answered back with obvious confusion, “Following orders sir…”
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The gunfire stopped and Allen looked into the ditch. It was filled with lifeless bodies and gore, but there was still movement. Someone was still alive in there. Allen said, “There’s someone still alive in there, let’s help them out of the ditch.”
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The man now looked at Allen with contempt, “I’ll help put them out of their misery…”
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In disgust, Allen shoved the man to the side and stumbled down into the ditch. Bernard dropped down behind him and began to search the ditch. Allen scanned the bloodied human parts for movement. He saw a body shift a few feet from him and he didn’t hesitate to climb over the slick remains of those beyond his help. Allen found the body that continued to move about only to see that the eyes stared lifeless to the sky from a corpse that nevertheless moved. Allen could hear muffled cries and quickly bent over and pulled the remains to the side to see a small boy who couldn’t be older than three gently sobbing as he clung to the body that had covered him. No doubt it had been a protective family member, but even as they gave their life protecting the boy, they had not kept him completely from harm. The boy had been shot in shoulder. Allen did not hesitate to scoop the small child into his arms and began to retreat from the ditch. He saw from the corner of his eye as Bernard helped an older woman from the mass grave.
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They both retreated from the ditch and retrieved the sobbing girl that Allen had saved earlier from being raped. Bernard and Allen loaded all three Vietnamese into his helicopter and prepared to leave. As he began to lift the gunship off of the ground, Dunham spoke through his headset. “What are we going to do now?”
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Allen spoke in a level voice as tears secretly rolled down his cheeks, “We are taking these civilians to the meds, and then we are going to tell command what is happening here.”
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