A Chapter Of A Diary About The War In Viet-Nam Chapter's I , II & III

A Chapter Of A Diary About The War In Viet-nam Chapter I

The orders came in to get a killer team set up to go further up the mountain side and take out some old bunkers. Normally a killer team’s mission is to seek the enemy and engage in combat and get them before they get you. Nobody wants to admit it, but sometimes it’s considered a body count manuver so the higher up brass can call those in charge of them and tell them we are winning the war just by looking at the body counts of the enemy that was killed. Yes, I know I can get myself in trouble taking about it, so I hope nobody finds my diary.
It is August second in the year nineteen sixty eight and the killer team of twelve is ready and I happen to be one of them. I didn’t volunteer for this, I was asked to do it , I was proudly picked out because I’m one of the few who is carrying a grenade launcher. It’s just like a great giant bullet that comes out of an over side barrel, but when it hits something it explodes. My weapon can also shoot a bouncing Betty, which by the way happens to hit a target, then bounce and explode a second or third time. The other round is like a gaint shot gun shell that when fired quickly spreads it’s contents and is good for short range protection, especially in jungle warfare.
They just told us that it will take no more than a day to destroy the concert bunkers that were left behind and the enemy sometimes uses them to hide and fire at our own American soldiers. Yes, the Vietnamese people are smart about their tactics and we are never amaze at how they manage to prolong the battle. Anyway, they said that they will give us a day off back in the rears just to relax. I can’t mention the names of the fire bases or anything like that because the enemy could use the information if I were to be capture or killed and they come in contact with this diary.
The helicopters are taking us about a third of the way and we will take it from there. I’m an infantry soldier just like the rest of young group with me. Eighteen and nineteen year olds trying to serve their country in want ever capacity they want us too.
We also have somebody with explosives so that we can blow up the bunkers and make them useless to our enemy. That person was sent to us, we don’t usually have a specialist like him. We must take care of him and let him do his thing and hope we won’t have to engage the Vietcong. If we’re lucky, maybe I’ll be back to write some more details for my diary. If you’re reading this, then I didn’t make it, or maybe I’m home writing the next chapter.

Chapter II A Diary About The War In Viet-Nam

You’re not going to believe what happened today. It’s still August the second nineteen sixty eight and our mission about blowing up the bunkers are over. I’m still alive but what I am about to write down is not something our country leaders would want talked about, but here it goes.
As we werecoming close to where the bunkers were we saw two marine jets fly right over us. They too were headed in the same direction, but someone forgot to tell them we were down there too, oh, they also forgot to tell us they were coming to assist us, or so we thought.
I took my helmet off and sat on it to protect my jewels, if you know what I’m taking about. The sun was hot and the temperature was somewhere around one-hundred sixteen degrees, I mean it was really smoking out there. I took my shirt off and all twelve of us waited for the jets to do their pounding, you know, unloading their firepower on those bunkers. That’s when things started to go wrong.
I looked up at the skies and saw the jets headed in our direction. It looked kind of unusual because they were flying at a low altitude and had only unloaded of few bombs at the bunkers and they were really coming fast in our direction. My heart starting pounding at my ribcage because they were flying too fast. Then, it happened.
They started firing their guns at us and all of a sudden we were their enemy. We ran in all directions trying to avoid the rapid fire of bullents from their machine gun barrels as they were zeroing in on our location. We couldn’t fire back, it was our own people and I don’t think we stood much of a chance to knock them down. Besides, it would be Americans killing Americans. We did have rocket launchers, but we dare not fire at those marine jets.
They had mistaken us for the enemy, bullets were everywhere and some of the rounds were bouncing off the hard rocks and giving us some slight burning marks on our baren skin. There were few rocks we could shelter ourselves from them, but we didn’t stand much of a chance because the rocky mountain side made us sitting ducks.
The jets made a second turn and came at us from the opposite direction, and we could see that their bombs were being readied to be released. I thought we would all die right then and now. I could hear prayers coming from the mouths of some of our men, while others spoke in cussed language. I, felt like I needed a change of clothes as many more soldiers felt the same way.
Somebody is coming right now to talk to us, I’ll have to write more on what happened.

Chapter III

I braced myself for heavy casulties because we were not in anyway to fire back. Suddenly, one of my black african friends pulls out from his supposely hidden spot. He takes his shirt off and starts waving at the pilots of the jets. He screams at them as though they can hear them even though it was impossible to be heard from them. He screams at the top of his lungs, “I’m black, don’t shoot, I’m black, we’re Americans!”We all stood up as we waved too, and waited to be killed if our efforts failed us. God must have heard our prayers and the pilots finally realized their mistake. They tipped the wings of the jets to let us know that they had made a big mistake. We screamed proudly as they made a third pass because they were trying and hoping not to see anybody dead below them.We started counting and looking around to see home many soldiers had been killed. There were none, even though powder marks on our skin were visible, but none life threating or serious. Every soldier was accounted for and we sat down to count our blessing with bow heads.The jets left and we prepared to finish the mission we had set out to do and it was the time we finally laughed about what that friend of ours had done. He told us that he knew Viet-namese people were not black, and he thought that if the pilots could see his skin color, maybe they would stop. He was right and we all had a big laugh as we all gave him high-fives for his quick thinking.This is a true story about the event, I’m home now but I also have to stop writing for right now. I have to wipe the tears from my eyes because I have to inform you what happened to that hero of ours. He was later killed in another operation. I’m sorry I have to stop, but I think you understand.

Copyright © 2008 OscarElizondo

A Chapter Of A Diary About The War In Viet-Nam Chapter's I , II & III


Harlingen, United States

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Artist's Description

This comes from a diary I started many years ago and didn’t have the heart to put it in print. Thanks to redbubble, I feel like the time is right for people to hear some of the untold stories of things that happened in a war.

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