Dust-Off view (loading)

As sent by Norman Gubser / Career Army
Uncle 'Duke'

They carried P-38 can openers and heat tabs, watches and dog tags, insect repellent, gum, cigarettes, Zippo lighters, salt tablets, compress bandages, ponchos, Kool-Aid, two or three canteens of water, iodine tablets, sterno, LRRP- rations, and C-rations stuffed in socks. They carried standard fatigues, jungle boots, bush hats, flak jackets, and steel pots.

They carried the M-16 assault rifle. They carried trip flares and Claymore mines, M-60 machine guns, the M-70 grenade launcher, M-14's, CAR-15's, Stoners, Swedish K's, 66mm Laws, shotguns, .45 caliber pistols, silencers, the sound of bullets, rockets, and choppers, and sometimes the sound of silence. They carried C-4 plastic explosives, an assortment of hand grenades, PRC-25 radios, knives and machetes. Some carried napalm, CBU's, and large bombs;

Some risked their lives to rescue others. Some escaped the fear, but dealt with the death and damage. Some made very hard decisions, and some just tried to survive. They carried malaria, dysentery, ringworms, and leaches. They carried the land itself as it hardened on their boots. They carried stationery, pencils, and pictures of their loved ones - real and imagined.

They carried love for people in the real world, and love for one another. And sometimes they disguised that love: "Don't mean nothin'!" They carried memories! For the most part, they carried themselves with poise and a kind of dignity. Now and then, there were times when panic set in, and people squealed, or wanted to, but couldn't; when they twitched and made moaning sounds and covered their heads and said "Dear God", and hugged the earth and fired their weapons blindly, and cringed and begged for the noise to stop, and went wild and made stupid promises to themselves and God and their parents, hoping not to die.

They carried the traditions of the United States military, and memories and images of those who served before them. They carried grief, terror, longing, and their reputations. They carried the soldier's greatest fear: the embarrassment of dishonor. They crawled into tunnels, walked point, and advanced under fire, so as not to die of embarrassment.

They were afraid of dying, but too afraid to show it. They carried the emotional baggage of men and women who might die at any moment. They carried the weight of the world, and the weight of every free citizen of America.

THEY CARRIED EACH OTHER

Author of record...Tim O'Brien

David T. Roberts
Delta Co. 1st Battalion 4th Marines
Marine Grunt Combat Vietnam Veteran

" MAYBE THEN"

Something my wife said to me today, made me realize that our families have been going through " THIS" all alone with us, not knowing what "THIS" is. All we can do is love them in return, and ask them to forgive us if we are different than they remembered us, or find we are different from those around us. We have a hard time trusting, to include wifes, girlfriends, family and friends. The only trust we remember is our brothers to our left and right, ahead of us and to our backs. We remember things like laying in a rice paddy, our brothers next to us ready to defend our right to be alive. Big brother only a radio call away, ready to send in the Air Strikes, Arty, or the Medevac's should we need them if the shit gets too bad. We knew somewhere our brothers were on alert standing by, ready to jump on a Helo and come help or get us if we should call. And they would come, NO QUESTIONS ASKED.... We remember holding our brothers in our arms while he is dying, not knowing how to push his guts back in and make his wound go away, and screaming for DOC cause he would know what to do. And Please Forgive us if tears should appear for no reason. We are remembering something one of our brothers had said that was funny and we are only missing this brother.... Please Forgive us if the tears start flowing and we have to leave the room because we cannot control ourselves. We are only remembering a brother that was lost and only last night we had shared your picture with him because he got no mail that day..... Please Forgive us if we stare at something and seem to be lost to your presence or speech. Our eyes are not working at this moment and our minds are very far away and we cannot tell you where. Please Forgive our screams at night and our restless sleep. We are in a Fire Fight back in Vietnam. We will be alright in the morning and will help you put the sheets and blankets back on the bed.... Please Forgive us if we prefer our Pork N Beans, Sliced Peaches, or Fruit Cocktail right out of the can while sitting on the floor or in the grass. They just taste better that way. And we know it looks funny when we pull out our key ring and use our P-38's to open these cans, Or search the whole kitchen to find a plastic spoon to eat them with, then suck the spoon clean and stick it in our shirt pocket.... Please Forgive us if we take you out to eat and insist on a corner table or booth. Something to put our back's against. We wish we could tell you why we don't like crowds. Is it because we are afraid too many will fall if something bad should happen" Is it because we do not know who in this crowd can be trusted ? Or is it because if something bad should happen in this crowd, we have no weapon to protect you with. Please Forgive us if we don't tell you these things, we know you can't understand them. And maybe one day we can find one of our brothers and we may let you sit in on our stories. Maybe then you might understand..
Maybe Then.....

" THE THINGS THEY CARRY "

They awake in the morning surprised they made it through the night because the night carried them back to Vietnam. They must now face a day in hopes the demons don't show up while they try and make it back to the safety of night where they once again can go back to Vietnam, back to the brothers they carried and were carried by. They carry the image of a boy shot full of holes lying in their arms as they die and know full well their turn is coming. They carry the screams of pain or the screams for Mother and God from these boys that don't want to die. They carry with them the helplessness of not knowing what to do because they are boy men themselves. They carry the very real sight and sounds of a battle where they are pinned to the ground and one wrong move could cost them their life. They carry the hours that turned into days as they fought to get themselves and the boy men fighting beside them to safety. They carry the long nights they lay in hiding, waiting to take a human life because it was trying to take theirs. They carry the look on the face of an enemy that they have killed and know that he too didn't want to die.. They carry awful smells of death with them everyday, and the slightest scent of something rotten can have them hiding in a corner not wanting to know where or what it is. The also carry the smells of burnt flesh and will swear to you that something is amiss in the very home in which they live. They carry the loneliness they feel even while in the company of family. They carry the fear that something like their past could happen to their loved ones, and there is nothing on this earth that they could do about it. They carry the fear that they will take their own lives and not mean it. The carry the fears of a past that no man should have to remember or have. They carry the fear that tonight is another night where they will have to sleep. They know the ghosts of a war past will come and get them, and they will have no choice but to go along. Once again the killing will start, Once again the fear will take them so near death that they wake up soaking wet, and screaming in a world where only they know how hard it is to carry themselves through the coming day..

HOW THEY LONG FOR SOMEONE TO HELP CARRY THIS LOAD....

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