hwsteele
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I’ve been fighting shy of responding to this because I knew the memories and feelings it would inevitably bring to the surface once again would lead me, very possibly, down those dark, dank corridors of memory, more out of protection than design shielded from conscious thought – more out of pity than shame, hidden from the Lord’s gaze. But perhaps now is the right time to exorcise my demons…
It was a hot, humid evening as it pretty much always is in this part of the world. They had been firing across our lines all night long, parachute flares, RPGs, random sniper fire. Madness. The monsoon evening rains had quenched for but a few seconds the parched earth on which we lay and gave a musty, foetid odour to the vegetation which was fast withering in the chemical death of week long A-O fly-bys.
Rations has long since diminished to forage-and-find and the scraps we were able to steal from the corpses of those recently slain was woefully insufficient and served only to heighten the hunger and deepen the desperation of our situation.
Rain, heat, mud, death, blood, killing, thirst, separation and then – with clarity and overwhelming ‘knowing’ – pure realisation: If I ever got out of here, I would follow the teachings of that jungle and trade for a living.
With that, I grabbed a nearby Bramble bush and stuck it up my ass as a reminder, for all time, of what it was going to be like on t2w.
:-0
Wow, this is a little closer to what I thought might happen.
Still a good read at the right time of day.