71', Warman in charge of a small exchange unit. Requisitions came
from the big man himself. I
was to convey a small combatant group into the eye of the storm. 
This was an impossible mission
and we knew it going it. Looking to the right and to the left of me,
I knew this was the last time we
would be alive. I was up to 2 and a half packs of
Marlboro's a day and my picture I kept in my back pocket of Betty
Davis was wearing thin. I
hankered for a pair of fresh milky breasts and a velvet pocket to
stick my gun into. I was tired of
the Saigon whores that were infested with disease and parasites. I
never raped no woman in the
fields either. Warman just isn't into that vile. Many men would
play with themselves at night time
while in the fields. I use to gratify myself as well. I stopped
that one morning when I saw Sargent
Henson crouched over pained with regia mortis and his penis clenched
in his hands. The fucker
was killed while playing with his jolly balls. Charlie was evil that
way.
I went over there and killed them but it was my job. Nothing
personal. The assignment was
looking stale and I knew that no irrelevant movie like Saving Private
Ryan could truly show the
horrors of war. The men and I were prepped. We were to walk into
enemy territory and shoot
every pig we saw and any Charlie that might be standing in the way. 
The argumentation was then
to light up as many rice fields on fire as possible and any Charlies
that might be in the passageway.
The plan was to hit Charlie's infrastructure. We were to target all
the industry and incapacitate
their nation. The plan was to make Vietnam stock plummet on Wall
Street. The Sargent told us
that for ever pig and rice field we killed or set on fire we would
get bonus points. 10 pigs and 5
rice fields would earn us a day off with pay. 20 pigs and 10 rice
fields and a soldier could trade
that in for a purple heart. 30 pigs and 20 rice fields would get a
soldier a week off payed in the
Bahamas. The Sargent put the starters pistol in the air and fired. 
We were off running in the jungle
with the thoughts of purple hearts and a Bahamas trip running through
our little heads. I was the
first to approach a village. Just I had anticipated they had pigs
and chickens and a few rice fields
carefully hidden under water. The water was no camouflage for the
intelligence of myself but it
posed a threat as to how I was to light the fuckers up? I counted 12
pigs and a few dozen
chickens. My plan was to rush in yelling bloody murder and get the
job done. With the passion
for killing I jolted in firing my machine gun and throwing grenades
in every direction I was proving
that pigs and chickens can fly with the right kind of rocket fuel. I
was doing great but some stupid
Charlie kid left his Big-Wheel in the road way and I tripped over it.
Forthwith my head hit the dirt
and I was surrounded by many angry Charlies. I looked over my
directives and saw I was steadily
out numbered. I had to do what any solider in my position would do. 
I was fixing to go out in a
hail of bullets but not with out doing some damage to Charlie in the
process. I got up like a man
and grabbed my M-16 and pulled the trigger as I spun on one foot
using the tippy toes to do a
ballerina 360 like a woman. All guns blazing Charlie never had a
chance. All of them dead with
blood flowing in the streets mixing in with the pigs blood. I was
preparing to torch the rice fields
when he came. Super Kung-fu Charlie. "You want to fight? Fight ME!"
said Super Kung-Fu
Charlie with some extra lip flapping. I dropped my guns and ammo and
began the confrontation
that would leave one of us dead and the other permanently brain
damaged and writing about this
on the internet. I used my American boxing skills to deliver a
stunning American Hero jab,
followed through with a right cross. Charlie kicks me in the balls
and I drop to the ground. Then
Charlie really fucked me up when he delivered the most deadliest move
that the Charlies had
mastered. Every American G.I. dreaded this move. We were warned
about this in military camp.
If you haven't already guessed it, Charlie delivers the dreaded
Charlie-Horse. Now I am
screwed. I can't walk and the cramping is a killer. I am praying
for the lord savior, J. Edgar
Hoover to save me. No such luck as Charlie has me for the 3 pin when
ever he wants. Charlie is
now scaling a village hut and I am into much pain to move. He
lounges off the roof with a flying
elbow drop. My life is flashing before my eyes but I pull through
and move at the last second.
Charlie hits the ground and in knocked unconscious. I roll over and
over and make it to one of my
grenades. Pull the pin and toss it over to Charlie as a going away
present. Warman