Those Hopeless, Angry Eyes. War Explicit Adult. (standard:Creative non-fiction, 1434 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 09 2020	Views/Reads: 1191/838	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Non-Fiction. Not for the squeamish. This was written for a contest at another site: “What would you say if you could write a letter to yourself at a younger age?”

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Giving her a blank look, you'll gaze down at her exposed crotch – what
man wouldn't? 

Seeing that action, she'll cross her legs, causing the Koreans to laugh
and kick them open again, one bending over to spit in the juncture, 
bringing more laughter. 

Your gaze will sweep back up to her face, seeing those eyes turn to a
hateful stare. Those dark expressive eyes! She'll open her mouth, as 
though to say something then, probably sensing the futility, turn her 
head away, no tears evident. 

During the trip, the Koreans will occasionally molest, bully, and rape
her and her male companion. They're our allies and their conduct none 
of your business. But she'll sometimes stare at you, sometimes pleading 
for help, sometimes hating with those god-damn-ed eyes threatening to 
burn holes in your skull. Tears will come to you as you turn to look 
out the back of the truck, hiding your own eyes from ... hers. 

At one point, a Korean smiles at you while shoving the man's head into
your own crotch, expecting you to participate in a sex act. They laugh 
as you blush, turn your head, and shove the guy back to the floor. 

You're eternally frustrated at not having any say in their conduct. The
officer up front, sometimes glancing back through a slit in the canvas, 
is responsible for the vehicle, not you. 

As the sun rises over the road that morning, you'll pass piles of bodies
and body-parts waiting for the meat wagon, your truck driving through 
huge clouds of feeding insects. It's a common sight early in the 
morning. 

They will be the result of fighting in fields and paddies during the
night. Although American forces will make every effort to retrieve 
their own dead at the time, the South Vietnamese (ARVN) military often 
leave corpses until they'll have daylight and air cover safety for 
recovery. Then they will be piled at the roadside, waiting for pickup. 
Many will be days old and stinking. At one pile a joker stacked a 
half-dozen heads of children on top, eyes facing the road. 

The truck will stop at a small Korean camp and the prisoners tossed off
while the soldiers smile at you and dismount, some trying for a softer 
landing by jumping down onto the prisoners, laughing at their attempts 
to roll away. Your truck will pull away, leaving the sight of the two 
prisoners being forced to their feet. 

On another occasion, you'll be sitting with your buddies, drinking a
beer at another base (I forget the name) next to a Korean compound. 
Across the razor wire, about 50 feet away, a dozen Korean soldiers will 
be seen escorting three prisoners from a building. I imagine the entire 
show was for we Americans to watch. They forced the prisoners down to 
their knees, facing us. One of the Koreans drew a sword, and we watched 
three heads being chopped off. Afterwards, the Koreans bowed to us and 
left the bodies lying there. 

American soldiers will also be frisky. While in the 198th Inf, my
company Orderly Room was blown up with C4. Another time, when you're 
with the 11th Armored Cav., Someone will set an automatic ambush on the 
commanding officer's hooch. A rat set it off. 

Yes, Charlie. That tour will be different from the first. By the time
you arrive the second time, the war will be in full swing, half a 
million Americans in-country. 

As you get closer to your base, you'll drive through villages under our
supposed protection. They will belong to the US in the daytime and the 
enemy after dark. 

Small children will follow your truck, begging in pigeon English for
candy for themselves and "C" rations for their families. If you look 
carefully -- past the kids -- to adults standing in the background 
you'll see hate in their eyes. Some will turn away and spit on the 
ground. Those are the people you are there to help and protect. 

If you sign those papers to reenlist, you'll come to your senses
eventually. It happened to you, me, before. You'll realize that WE'RE 
the oppressors, not the Communists. 

After that realization, you'll suffer through another six-months or so,
drunk as often as possible while counting the days before you can 
leave. You'll be the “Dove” and, for the rest of your life, you'll 
remember those eyes. 

After forty years, I still do while sitting alone on a dark night. Those
hate-filled hopeless ... hauntingly expressive ... EYES.


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