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A Childs Eye (standard:other, 481 words)
Author: timsterAdded: Apr 29 2004Views/Reads: 2015/0Story 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. 


   


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