main menu | standard categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools |
A Childs Eye (standard:other, 481 words) | |||
Author: timster | Added: Apr 29 2004 | Views/Reads: 3512/0 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Saigon 1975 | |||
A Childs Eye Saigon 1975 There is panic everywhere. The Vietcong are just outside the city. Fear grips this once thriving city. I was flown here yesterday to support the Marines in the evacuation of the embassy, or at least that is what we were told. The North is ready to overrun the final stronghold of the South. I see South Vietnamese soldiers ripping their uniforms off, trying to blend in with the rest of the population. The sound of artillery and gunfire can be heard off in the distance. It is still well outside of the city and is sporadic. Yet, the panic grows ten-fold with every blast, people running through the streets with no apparent destination. I wonder what will become of them once we leave. My Company is assigned to keep a small road clear and secure, as an evacuation road for the Marines. I have never be fond of Marines and been in a few small skirmishes with them. They feel they are the elite and we are just here to support them. It seems to be the case in this instance, but not always. Why they were chosen for the assignment, I have no idea, unless embassies are part of their duties. Years later when I cared again, I found that to be true. I was drafted some six months ago, a few months ago the draft was abolished, and time really has no reality now. It is so humid; the salt is caked onto my face. I scrape it off in chunks, trying to keep it from my eyes. Here I am nineteen years old, holding a M-16, waiting to fire a shot. I should be home with my friends and girl, enjoying life. They have taken that from me. A small boy wanders onto the street. He can't be more than seven. Fear is in the boys' eyes, he seems to have been separated from his parents. The street is calm, a place of refuge for the boy. There is no panic here, no people running blindly through the streets. It is a place to regain his thoughts. He looks over at us and slowly proceeds towards our position. My Sergeant yells to the boy to get off the street. The boy does not seem to understand and continues towards us. The Sergeant pleads to the boy, yet he still keeps coming. A shot rings out and in a moment half of the boys' head is gone. He collapses to the ground, convulses for a moment and lies motionless. All I can see is one eye of innocence lying on the ground. Soon the blood covers the eye. It is the most grotesque thing I have ever seen to that point in my life. That day, many more were shot and killed, while in search of sanctuary. The Marines never did use that road. Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback! Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story! |
timster has 26 active stories on this site. Profile for timster, incl. all stories Email: tim_gorman2@yahoo.com |