“I am hit! I am hit!” A heart-wrenching wail reverberated among the ruins of the tin roofs from the numerous collapsed houses, where three U.S. Marines were using as a barricade against the incoming Viet Cong forces. I shot one last bullet at the enemy before crouching down to attend to my wounded comrade. Ben was shot in the head and arm, and was barely breathing. Another round of AK-47 bullets riddled our tin barricade. The spine-chilling screams of innocent civilians in the city of Hue, coupled with the deafening boom of houses crumbling to the ground, seemed so far away... My other comrade, Tom, who had lost his left leg in a mine accident last year, hobbled over and bandaged Ben’s wounds as quickly as his shaky, sweaty hands could. Bright crimson blood contrasted jarringly with the dull grey tin roof his head was lying on. Even though we kept urging him to hold on, we knew in our hearts drearily that there was zero probability Ben could live to see another day. With a trembling, barely audible voice, Ben whispered, “Tell my mother I love her,” before dropping dead on the cold hard soil.
Wiping away a solitary tear, Tom solemnly removed the magazine around Ben’s body, and pried his rifle gingerly from his firm grip. After wiping away his blood and emptying the magazine from his rifle, I ceremoniously planted Ben’s rifle in the ground and left his helmet dangling at the tip of its barrel. After a moment of silence, Tom and I loaded our rifles and continued our firing at the enemy forces, perhaps with a little more vigor than before.
Images of devastated cities, mourning families, bodies damaged beyond recognition, helpless children, bloodied comrades, all flashed through my mind like a horror movie in slow motion, you anticipated the results but the results always surprised you. Hue might be the beginning of the end. Did we have to destroy this town to save it? Is war really an innate part of human nature? A shell flew over our heads...
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