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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic

My personal opinions on the Viet Nam War.

Chapter 35 (v.1) - THE PASSIONS OF VIET NAM

Submitted: March 28, 2007

Reads: 149

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Submitted: March 28, 2007



page 70

This kind of pressure can be more swaying than any other form of pressure existing. It was one of the reasons but I had finally changed my mind and decided to smoke some grass. Plus, the factor that there was no real pressures from the higher commanding forces. They sort of had an attitude, which was do your job and there was no problems. War and Viet Nam all made sense in this attitude.

While talking to some of the guys that smoked grass, I found that many of them were college graduates. They were very well spoken and educated, plus they read a lot. They further enhanced confidence and a sort of trust, that was not in other guys. There was that group that played cards and drank like the images Hollywood projects. You could only get a image answer from these guys.It seemed these people could notanswer myquestions. It seemed they also did little laughing and just played cards on a routine basis. The others friendsor guys were into doing their thing and hiding. This group of college grads were on a higher wave length. I went to college but dropped out. They seem to know me in a strange way, but I didn't know them really.

All off this like the pimple ready to burst, readied me for my experience with grass. How when and where were still the final step. Then in the back of my deep mind, I questioned smoking. Childhood fears and the stigma associated with drugs. Then the isolation and pressures reinforced me into smoking. It boiled down for me that as soon as the moment, I would jump on the opportunity. There was that bondage that the real grass heads had that lured me onward.

Within myself Viet Nam was a real monster that was eating into me. In the short time of being in country, I had seen the changes in myself. For one war was not like the television movies you watched and John Waynewon the wars alone. There was too much horror associated with the experience. Here was the state of the devils play-ground with his darkest soul exposed. Misery and pain were the dominating forces. Mental anguish and dreams and thoughts at moments. Yes, it was all present in Viet Nam. The inroads of change and alteration of myself was going to be here. My young age made me wide open like a sponge to all around, with older guys a little more stable. If I was older, I might have been better off, but this was me now. It came down to all of us just being young guys, caught in something bigger than we, all combined. Still though we remained a part of the war machine.


The day had finally arrived when I was going to try some grass. It was a hot day and the sun seem to be beating down on each one in its way. The temp. was well over the hundred degree mark. On days like this, with free time you went down to the river and cooled off in the water or just it breeze. We gathered our things after the lunch hour. It was about one in the afternoon. The other guys in the company were doing their things and duty. For others it was dreaming of leaving Viet Nam, and other thoughts. Going over their short calendar of time left in company. Hoping they missed a day, but many had it down to hours and even seconds.

With our gear in hand, which was the army air mattress, issued for sleeping on the ground. We used them to float in the river. There was a dirt road that led down to the river edge. This area was used also to was trucks and jeeps. The path road had gullies in it from the monsoon rains and truck tires.

As our journey began there was an anxiety growing in my self. It is that fear all experience atthe thoughts of a coming event. While we were walking, I told the guys that I was going to try some grass. It was a funny reaction that was presented to me, but that was that. There were no jubilation or cheers. It was like a confidence that was presented to me. It put on an added piece of security. It was really just me and this other person that were going to the river. He was a biker and a member of one of the local gangs. He came from California, and had come into the company with me off the plane from Quin NHON. We bunked together in the same cubical and we knew each other a lot, though he was a loner by nature.

It was a short walk to the river, less than a quarter mile. The heat was hot and our feet shuffled in that now new way of walking in Viet Nam. Conserving energy with each step. The anxiety was still there, with each step. There was almost a slight quiver to my person. This I tried to mask and forget with non-sense talking. We stopped and inflated our rubber air-mattress. It was of army issue, which meant it was pale olive army green. In the corner was the logo of its number and other vital statistics.

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