In the rice paddy, in the dead of night, our platoon is working its way towards the Viet Cong base. I hear Trent say to Gordon, "This weather is nice but I really want to get out of here and be back home. I feel like I will die just from going through this at night." "Yeah, I know what you mean." replied Gordon, who was trying to be as quiet as possible since he was the biggest of all of us and since he was carrying the radio. "Hey, Gordon, want me to take that radio from ya?" whispered James. "Sure." "Yall better do that quietly, I think I heard somethin over yonder." says Johnny Macallan. James and Gordon stop and silently switch the radio over to James. Meanwhile, I notice some mud had seeped into my boot. It's all so slimy and wet and I feel it just squeezing all around and in between my toes. Then Jackson comes over to me and says, "This marsh is so gooey and wet, although the mist is nice." "Yeah." Mark Jackson is one of my absolute best friends. I'd like to say that we've known each other our whole life. He's been there for me the whole time. "How are you and Christina doing?" I queried. "Great. How are your parents?" he answered. "Good." "I wish I could get a hot meal. Funny as we're in a rice field, I'm famished." Mark remarks. "Quiet." the commander of our platoon grunts. For a while, there was only the squish, squash, slurp of us walking through the field. Out of nowhere, bullets ring out on three sides of us. "AAhhhhrrrr!" yells one of our soldiers as he falls with a splash. The machine guns start buzzing and crackling all around and I dive down, dragging Trent with me, all the while getting a mouthful of sour, earthy paddy water as it swells around us. "GET DOW-..." yells the commander, but at the same time I see him get riddled with bullets and his cry was cut short. I look over at where I think Trent is, I see him, yet he's staring wide-eyed at me, not blinking. I suddenly realize with a heavy heart that he is dead and filled with bullet holes. Wump! I realize Charlie just brought in mortars. "Mortars!" I yell hoping that there is enough of our group left. I see Mark lying on the ground perpendicular to me. BOOM! The mortar shell lands and explodes right behind Jackson. The smokey, sulfur-filled stench made its way over to me. Wump! I hear another mortar fire and crawl over towards Jackson hoping he's still alive and that the mortar isn't aiming at the same spot. "Call for a bird you cherries! Call for a bird!" screamed Captain Matt Thompson. As I'm crawling, I see James Stevenson working with the radio, trying to call in a helicopter, get hit directly with the mortar. I bow my head out of respect and in a way of giving up. I know that the radio is our only hope of rescue, and now it is non-existent. I look over to my left and see Gordon fall down dead as bullets strike him over and over again, fast as lightning, just one after another, after another. Wump! "There goes another one." I silently tell myself with a sigh. I look ahead towards Jackson. He's still quite far away. I still don't see Peter, my older brother who was already in the army before me. "Steve!" yells a voice. I look towards the source, I find Peter finally. Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light with a deafening BOOM! The mortar explodes like thunder, leaving my ears ringing. I stop and stare as well as I could at the crater where my brother had just been blown into a million pieces. I lie still and cry horribly. Sniff, sniff, I gather my wits and set forth again, trying to move away from the battle and towards Jackson. As I reach his body, I find that only his top half was left. His shirt was burned all over plus, there was dried blood on it too. I also happen to notice some blood slowly leaking out. I breathe in the noxious, stale smell of burnt flesh, and the insides of Jackson. I look at the water in the paddy around me, it's dyed crimson with blood. I begin crawl under his body to protect myself from at least bullets. The machine guns are still blazing all around, pinning us down. "AHHH!" another soldier falls. As I crawl under the body, I happen to notice five shadowy figures firing at the North Vietnamese. I know it's no use, but I pray that they will still live on. Wump! Wump! Two mortars go off. I have a feeling that at least one of them would end up hitting the five men. BOOM! I look over to where the soldiers are. BOOM! I do not see them anywhere, I sigh heavily. The mortars are hurricanes, blowing away anything. Matt Thompson, our captain, finds me hiding. "How are you hanging on sir?" I ask. "Don't call me that Steve. I have a terrible feeling that we're the only ones left, and I was the one who led us here, it's my fault." Matt replies. "Hold up now, no you didn't." I try to reassure him. I crawl out a little to calm him, but since the Charlie were still firing their weapons, the captain gets shot over and over again in the chest, while I pull him down behind Jackson's body near me. As I look him over, I just see countless holes in him, each one spurting blood all over me. The night quickly got silent, and I finally feel the chilly water around me soaking into my clothes and skin. It felt like soft rain, cold and quiet. I look up at the moon, it wasn't directly overhead now. "An hour or so must've passed during this." I think to myself. The night is so peaceful, yet at the same time, it's so terrifying. "Hey!" I yell hoping my comrades that are still alive regain hope knowing that another is still alive as well. However, that just brings on more fire, so I shut up. The buzzing continues for five dreadful minutes. "Funny how in terrible situations, time slows down so much." I think to myself. The five minutes, while short feel like five years. It gets real quiet once again and I know they are just going to wait for dawn to come and wipe the rest of us out. I have no watch, no way of telling when dawn will come. I hope and pray, and hope and pray while I lie waiting. I don't want the sun to come up, for it means certain death. Then light starts to dance across the sky as sunrise starts. The sun soon follows, cruising into view in a fiery haze. My worst fear is suddenly realized, the sun has come up. "Squish, squash." I hear soldiers marching through the field. "NO! Please no!" I recognize the voice as Harry Scott's, bump, bump, bump. The Viet Cong soldier bludgeons him with his gun. Meanwhile, others look on snickering. My heart stops as the squish, squash nears me. Slit, the soldier forcefully jabs a knife into Matt's body to make sure he's dead. They then keep on moving, not noticing me at all. "I can't believe it, I'm alive!" I think to myself. I wait five minutes, maybe five hours, I don't know. I get up, then fall right back down again. I look down at them, turns out I've been shot in the thighs. I quickly wrap them up, then pick up my rifle, and pull myself up on it. I start limping around the battlefield under the hot burning sun, using the gun as a crutch. After a while, I'm sweating, I taste the salty sweat as it drips into my mouth. Still, no one has come yet, and I just see bodies and craters all over the place. I end up finding James, or what's left of him and the radio. "AArrrrgghhhh!!" I cry out in frustration. I kneel down as I realize I can't call back to base for help and I can't just walk back. Out of nowhere, the whirring of helicopter blades drowns out everything else. I start straining my head all around looking for it. Then I see it as a shark, charging at me through the air with all of its bulk. Medics run out with a stretcher. "Hey! You! Is there anyone else left alive?" they call out as they close in on me. "No. I'm the only one." I answer weakly. They put me on the stretcher and carry me to the helicopter. "Did you think you'd make it?" one asked. "No, but..." I see the paddy is an emerald sea, flowing in the wind, strewn with carnage, "there is always hope." I look up at the sky, where I see my brother with his hand outstretched. I reach out and grab his hand, welcoming his smile.
