Military-Support

 The Man I Killed My elbows were dug deep into the fine dirt of Vietnam. Smoke and mist mingled in the trees like some sort of eerie dance. The silence was so sudden it seemed loud. My M-16 was carefully cradled against my chest, waiting. There was a burst of firing behind me and I turned and returned fire. Silence again. Vietnam was all around me. In the trees. In the ground, and in me, I think. Another burst of fire and I jump up, firing in the direction that the rat-a-tat noise is coming from. Ferns brush at my fatigues, twigs snap underneath my boots as I run. I am hitting something because there is that thwump noise a bul