“Bang! Bang!”, the deafening shots ring loud and clear as I watch my Comrades fall to the scorched earth in the form of unresponsive, lifeless dead weight. I pause just a moment while visions of my, what now seemed perfect childhood, pass in front of me. What had seemed like 5 minutes, passed rapidly in about 5 seconds as I peer back for a second to try to get a glimpse of who might be wrenching my friends souls from their bodies, but alas, I see no one. The gunfire stops and I get a bit confused. “Did we kill them all?”, I ask myself. Shaking and trembling, scared to death of what might happen next, my legs suddenly, without warning, just give out. I swiftly fall to the cold muddy terrain. Fearful for my life, I quickly lean against a tree, my breath escaping my body rapidly. My head shoots back and forth, waiting to spot someone willing to bring me harm, but again, I see no one. I spring back onto my feet with my heavy yet trust M-16, my favorite weapon, the one I frequently practiced with at the range from day to day, never missing a chance to shoot. I continue to inaudibly creep towards the position the shots were coming from. With great courage I pace forward, knowing not what will happen next.I pace for what seemed about 2 minutes, when in the time it took me to blink, I see a nasty little Vietcong protrude from a tunnel made in the terrain. For a reason unknowing to me, I hit the ground with mighty force, my chest burning inside, when I finally come to the heartbreaking realization that I had been shot in the chest. This realization would be hard for anyone to experience; there’s an overwhelmingly feeling of wanting to be home. “Mom!” I yell out. “Mom, why me?!” As I lay there bleeding to death, the most important thing to anyone starts to leave my mind, saneness. No one know how the transition from sane to insane feels, yet I feel this change from the pints...
