This story takes place in rural Vietnam. The story is between two soldiers. One who was surrounded by death all his life. Another, who was surrounded by alcohol abuse and suicide as a child. Both cross paths that will change their lives forever.

Tso’s POV:
It’s dark and gloomy. Like always since the French came here. Now that the United States supports the French, we have declared war on them. I look up at the grey sky and I can almost see blue. A sign that there is still hope in this part of the world. I don’t blame the French and the Americans for what they have done so far, but why us? We are considered to be one of the poorest countries. My family is poor. I am the middle child in my family. I work as a rice planter. I have 5 children to feed. My wife died for being mistaken for a soldier instead of being an innocent bystander. I only have one arm. The French decided to cut it off because I was fighting back in the market for equal prices. I meant no harm. They just couldn’t see it that way.

John’s POV:

It’s hell over here! Literally. It is so hot and humid. I can’t seem to understand how these Viets live in such heat! The only thing I see are corpses everywhere. I am not used to this type of life. All because these stupid Viets couldn’t accept the fact that they will never be free. I hear children crying for their parents. Parents crying for their children. If only I cared. I couldn’t care less for all these pathetic people. This isn’t my country. My country is the “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!” The “LAND OF THE FREE!” We will never be captured like these poor filthy souls here. I am from an upper class family. Yes, I am a high school drop out. But I am a strong minded person. I know how to react quickly… unlike most people. I have a child with a woman I don’t even like. She is 17 and I am 21. We were forced to get married. Now here I am. Fighting for my country and she doesn't appreciate my dedication. I am the second of three children. My job is a life guard. I get to enjoy the white sandy beaches full of beautiful women who wander about looking for an adventure. I am scared of getting killed. But I will leave a legacy. I soon think about writing a letter to my wife Kathryn. But I don’t think I should since I don’t love the woman:

December. 3 , 1960

Dear Kathryn,

Even though you don’t support what I do, I chose to write you this letter because you’re the only person I know. Even though it is December, it is hot as hell here. I don’t know how these Viets live in this heat? I miss you. So far we have made a whopping 2,000 killings in three days! I am pretty proud of my achievements over the seven month deployment. I only have three months left and I will be back to my old self again. I will be back to lifeguarding again. I miss Bob, Tom, and all the others. I miss having cold beers with them. Here, I only have cold Sake (it is a type of tea or some s***). I don’t expect you to pick me up when I come back. Not that you are the charm for everything but you could do me the honor and pick me up. Or is that too much to ask? On the other hand, I would like to acknowledge the fact that you have not written to me at least once! That is very selfish on your part. I can imagine you right now with someone in my bed and room. I knew I should have never slept with you in the first place. You know I could have had anyone in the party. But you were desperate. What could I do?
This will be the first and last letter will you ever receive from my ass. I hope you are glad with your life, because you will never see me again!

John

P.s.
I slept with “ SUPERMARKET” Kate.

I wind up not sending it until after Christmas.


???? The letter will soon arrive to John and Kathryn’s Home. She accepted the letter but didn’t read it because she assumed that John was dead. Since two men went to their home to give her the letter. Kathryn had no remorse for John’s death.he just assumed that he was better off dead. So Kathryn soon found a companion named Caleb and graduated college to become a teacher. Together, they had four children and married after their third child.




Tso’s POV:

The scent of burning flesh is intoxicating. Each day I grow more and more disgusted. But yet you remember, all of the people you knew in your village. Tears stream down my face at the thought of happiness, laughter, joy, life. My memories are soon disturbed by the sound of a child’s scream. Another parent gone.



???? In Vietnam, there were many ways to kill any Vietnamese citizen. For example, any person who did not wore any form of camouflage or any clothing that related to any American clothing were shot on sight. Americans would plant land mines or booby - traps to kill any trespasser. The Vietnamese were not very diligent with warnings or precautions. They assumed they were scattered around the area. So they thought that they can skip around to avoid getting blown up. Little that they knew, jumping or skipping caused the majority of the mines to exploded.


John’s POV:

The scent of burning corpses is nauseating. I can't stand this god forsaken place! All I want to do is leave. Why did I get myself in this mess in the first place? I could be on the beach right now. We have a beach here, but it is a prisoner camp full of Viets. The only good thing happening to me so far is the food. The food is so exotic and intriguing. The smell of steamed duck helps mask the smell of burning victims in the forest.


???? Many of the Vietnamese citizens were killed then burned by actual American soldiers. They either chose to torch or poor gasoline and light a match or pour lye ( a powder that made the dead bodies decompose easier and would mask the smell).


Tso's POV:

The sounds of laughter comes back to mind. It leads me to a hidden area of Vietnam I have never seen before. It is an American Base Camp.


John's POV:

Surprisingly, I have been able to think about my childhood. I remember my 6th birthday party. Before my father became an alcoholic and my mother committed suicide, my parents gave me this red bike. From then on until I was 10, I rode that bike everyday. Before I could remember my childhood so vividly, now they just come blurry and gloomy. My memory is soon disrupted by sudden sound of wood splitting... As if someone stepped on it.

Tso's POV:

My curiosity kicks in and I investigate with my knife in hand. Until I step on a twig. Someone hears me and turns around. He is an American. His hair is blonde, almost as if it were to be made out of silk. His eyes are blue like the sea. Filled with life. He is dressed in green. It might help to blend in with the plants. He is buff yet slender. He quickly reaches for his gun. But there is no gun in his holder.

John's POV:

I turn around quickly to see a Viet. His hair is jet black. He is dirty yet clean at the same time. He looks old and tired. He is very small yet buff. I quickly reach for my gun. “S***!" I say. Then I reach for my knife which is also not there. Just my luck. Soon, I realize he has a knife. I'm a goner. Waiting for him to make a move, I look around for possible weapons I can find. Nothing. Nothing.

???? Each American soldier were forced to carry a knife or a small gun to defend themselves when any situation came along.

Tso's POV:

He has nothing to fight with. He suddenly pulls his fists up in the air. They are very shaky. I can see he is as nervous as I am. I make the first move and fail miserably. Making me stumble across rocky soil. I quickly recover and I make another move. I stab him in the chest. All I see is his blue eyes slowly change to grey. The color of life is now gone.


John's POV:

The Viet soon sends himself stumbling across the rough soil after the first attempt of attacking me. He recovers quickly and soon, I find his knife driven in my chest. My green shirt then becomes red. I fall to my knees. All I could say was, “Thank you." I soon find myself seeing a vivid memory of my red bike and my parents, before everything perfect in my life collapsed. Then I saw the light.

Tso’s POV:

I run as fast I can to the nearest village. I soon tumble to the ground and vomit on the flakey dirt. The bitter taste of stomach acid makes me vomit again until I am given water by a small child. I take time to observe the child. It is a girl who has a bandage over her left eye. It is covered in blood. The thought of me killing anyone in my life has never crossed my mind. The image of the American soldier tilting his head back before falling to the ground is engraved in the back of my mind. It makes me feel apart of the dark side now. I don’t want to be. I want to die. I want to die. I rather die than kill another person in my life. I choose this path clearing that leads to a set of landmines put out for the Americans if they ever choose to attack this village. I soon follow the path down to the mines. I look around me. I see this red sign that says “STOP.” Is this a sign? Is this a sign that I should turn around and live my life as a sinner? I ignore the sign. I slowly walk to the empty field. Each step counts towards my death. I soon hear a click. But it wasn’t me. It was the little girl with the bandaged eye who helped me earlier. I soon see a cloud of dust surrounding me. Then, I see blood. Blood. She somehow followed me here. I stumble over her body that has been blown apart. I soon find myself crying. Like a little child. Why wasn’t it me? I force myself up. Then, I hear a click. It is me this time. The memory of my children and my wife come to me. The joy and love they have brought to me is more grand than ever. I soon see a bright shiny light over my eyes. I go towards it. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.


???? In return to the death of John, Tso is full of resentment and sorrow. Knowing that his life will be a major hole, he commits suicide. Many soldiers from both sides suffer Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They can have a lot of flashbacks that relate to their journey in war. Many cope with it and go to therapists and consume medication to make them forget. Others enter deep depression and most likely commit suicide.







Fin