Wed. May 25th, 2022

(A Vietnam War story about Flies, 1971)

This was a warm afternoon within the rounds dump, inside the rounds shack-consisting of two rooms, walls made out of particle board, floors or inlays of long wood boards-flat timber intended for the most portion, you might see through their cracks, located crooked alongside one another; also the particular shack was a new smite lopsided, practically wobbly, and extremely broken. Planted upon four by 4 beams underneath the floorboards, about a 50 percent foot high, between the soft white fine sand that surrounded this, giving a playground with regard to the lizards to engage in excitement, unnoticed.

I transported a semi older ‘Stars and Pieces, ‘ magazine beside me when I got to navigate to the rounds shack (where us soldiers did our own paperwork for aide and distributing associated with ammunition for the convoys arriving from several locations within the location.

5.56 ammo carried that will old ‘Stars plus Strips, ‘ journal for a 30 days, until a new one came out there, and used it to swish apart flies. They were almost everywhere in the ammo shack-we were infested using them, with their buzzing around because if we have been invaders: fat and even thin bellied data; some dark other people light shads associated with dark, long and short winged jigs, biting your arms and face, plus ears, behind the neck, swarming close to you, sneaking up your shirt sleeves, snorkeling into your eye as if they had been small punishing missiles, trained from the Vietcong to annoy you. -me, us!

There are dead or perishing flies, also strolling flies on each of the three desks inside the two rooms with the shack, filling typically the atmosphere with putrid debris, aiming to one’s mouth, yet quite content whenever they missed, and simply landed on your own lips. They contaminated everything, clinging, and climbing, and in many cases many crawling, within their fastest gait possible, specifically the big fat bellied ones, they would try to get away but I had created swat them, however leaving a dumpy-bloody mess, I truly attempted to simply frighten them away, but like I explained before-or implied, they were already brained washed and ready in order to sacrifice their existence for the trigger.

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