- I once got super trashed at a Philadelphia bar called "Paddy's Pub".
- I remember back when I was in Nam. There were 6 of us, well, only 4 by then. We were 6 clicks up the Xiouhili River. I wasn't sure where we were headed. "North." That was the most they ever told me.
We eventually came upon a dock. I had a sinking pit in my stomach. I thought to myself, "This was the place? All this way for this place?" The water had begun to change an odd red. We got a bit closer, and that's when I saw it, human limbs hung from trees, the beaches stained red with blood, heads on the dock's pillars. I demanded to know what our mission was.
With this empty eyed stare, my captain looked at me and with this begrudging voice said, "Death." And despite numerous curses and threats, we docked. "Stay with the boat. I'll be back." With that, the captain disappeared into the jungle.
It had been over 6 hours, no sign of the captain or anyone else. Corporal Ronnie Hugh, a bit of an antagonistic prick, but a guy who I'd came to appreciate and like. He told me on many occasions he had enlisted solely to have some gook kills under his belt. I never really believed him, no one wanted to be here, but as soon as his chance arose he seized it.
"He's been out there for too long. Who's coming with me?"
Joseph Monfrair, a French swift boat driver assigned to our crew, and I both looked at him in disbelief. "No, that's alright, buddy, we're gonna stay here with the M2." Hugh looked pissed. He grabbed his rifle and high-tailed it into the tree line.
It wasn't 20 minutes when we heard a man's scream, it sounded like the captain. Gun fire began to break out, but only one gun was doing the shooting, and it was getting closer. Monfrair got behind the M2. I crouched in the cockpit, next to the grenades. Rifle ready. The shots were getting closer. Both of us waiting, staring into the jungle as if we were trying to see through the thicket.
Suddenly the shooting died. Just silence. Dead silence.
I looked at Monfrair, he had pissed his pants. Suddenly he sprang into action, "OH ****!" As he jumped off the boat. I turned quick enough to see a round object about to hit us. Thud! .......No explosion. I looked down at my pants, guess I had just joined the Monfrair club. "Jesus Christ, Joe, it wasn't an ordinance." He climbed back into the boat.
"What was it?"
I looked around the corner of the cockpit. There were red stains, there was what was left off Hugh's head. Monfrair began firing wildly into the trees, and so did I, lobbing grenades as fast as I could pull the pin. After what seemed to be about 5 minutes, probably more like 30 seconds, of sustained assault on an unseen enemy. We stopped. There couldn't be anything left out there. Then came another object out of the line. It hit the bow and splashed down in the water. I peaked over the side. It was the captain.
We started hearing moans and they were getting louder. Bushes began to rustle, trees were beginning to shake. The first ones were wearing uniforms, Allied & VC uniforms. I didn't know what to make of it, neither did Joe. But that question only lasted a couple seconds, as right behind them was an army of people, covered in blood, black goo oozing from their wounds and missing limbs, now running towards us.
That's when I put the pieces together. The gruesome scene on the beach. It was put there for a reason, a most visible warning for all to stay away, far away, but I guess our superiors couldn't resist their curiosities. Why would they? They weren't the ones "checking it out."
It was useless to try to kill them all. Monfrair fired up the engines and I jumped behind the M2. My rounds seemingly did nothing to slow them down. I tore off one of the front runners legs, but he just kept crawling. Monny forgot to untie us from the dock, we weren't moving and he didn't know what the **** was going on.
"Just ******* cut it!" He couldn't hear me over the gunfire.
I leaped for the rope, cut it with my knife, got back behind the M2 and opened fire as fast as I could. Not fast enough though. As we were pulling away a few of those things jumped onto the boat. Without thinking I followed them with the gun, right at Joe.
I was just a kid, a kid wanting to get home to his seed collection, and now my entire crew was dead, killed by what knows who and.......by me.
I didn't know what to do and I certainly couldn't leave Joe in that ******* river, so I kept all the bodies aboard. I had just seen hell and I certainly didn't want to spend the rest of my life in prison for shooting our driver at point blank range.
When I returned to base I didn't know what to expect. They almost looked surprised, I didn't know if it was because someone actually made it back or if it was because I wasn't "alone."
I was debriefed, forced into a two week quarantine, and made to sign an official action report that said the crew all died from enemy combat fire, was even awarded a medal. "Service & Bravery Above the Duty." I tossed it into the garbage, ******* bullshit. The only thing I wanted was to see my wife and get back to doing what I do best, growing marijuana.
But when I finally did get back home my relief quickly turned into utter despair. My wife had some bad news for me. During the last spring cleaning, our kid cleaned out the fridge and had thrown away my seed collection and there was absolutely nothing I could do. My seed collection was MIA.
TRUE
I'm fantastic at Mathematics and spelling 
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TRUE
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Thanks for starting up this thread again 
