Joe lay silently beside his friend. The water in the rice paddy was warm and smelt a bit like the garden compost his folks used back home. The Viet Cong patrol they had watched approach, was now harboured up ten meters to their front.
When they became separated from the rest of their section during a routine clearing patrol five days ago, they had panicked and kept walking. Carrying only emergency rations, hunger was starting to be a priority for them.
The VC patrol sat quietly, casually watching the surrounding fields and jungle, whilst eating fish and rice from banana-leaf wrapped parcels. The patrol eventually moved on, leaving only bent grass and a couple of banana leaves to mark their passing.
“Do you reckon I can eat Charlie’s left-over’s?” whispered Joe.
“My thoughts exactly” responded his friend as they slithered out of the paddy field towards the vacated enemy position.