The words kep racing through my cluttered mind that one morning as I stood in that
treacherously hot jungle, frozen with shock. The five words wouldn't let me forget it,
wouldnt let me disregard my emotions. The simple sentance served as a constant
reminder, a relentless token that refused to let me push my feelings away as I was used to
doing when I was at home. But this wasn't home; this was far from it. When I enlisted
in the army in the Spring of 1967, I was prepared to accept the intense physical training,
the horrid meals, the compitition and the lack of sleep. I was willing to challenge my
mind and body to it's ultimate limits, but never was I prepared for this. It never even
crossed my mind, it was never more than a whisper; a single insignificant worry among
a myriad of others.
But now I have seen it, the look in his eyes, the visage of fright tempered with
determination, I had felt it, the kick if the heavy metal against my shoulder, the hot blood
against my cheek, I had smelt it, the thick smell of vanished life tangible in the humid air,
and I had heard it, six shots, One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. But for whom? One shot for
my country and the cause for which we fought. One shot for my family and their security
and lives, one shot for - for humanity? I struggled to find the meaning in this act, struggled
to justify it, to dilute it with reason. But that didn't change anything, in essence, it was all
the same, I had done the unspeakable. I had ripped away the breath of another man,
stealing from others what I was fighting so devoutly to uphold for myself. Those six
shots were not for my country, the country that planted me here in this desolate jungle of
hell to supposedly fight for humanity. But how can one strive to uphold humanity by
campaigning a war against it? He can't. Those six shots were more than just bullets, they
were blessed by the ideals of America, fueled by life, aimed by Liberty, and driven by
justice. One shot to steal his family, who worked so hard to bring him into existence, one
shot to steal the country that he fought and died for with infinate loyalty, one shot to steal
his pride, the fuel of his determination. One shot to steal his honor, the name that he
conserved. One shot to steal his faith, his faith in his people and his faith in his cause, and
one shot to steal his individuality; the means by which he was defined.
Six shots to steal his life.
Six devestating shots sent through the barrel of my own insecurity, aimed at the avatar of
my own fear, sent to perform a task that stole my honor. Those six shots transformed
me, transformed my name. Six shots to rob a life, six shots to rob my pride. Once a man
of family, a husband, father, brother. And all it took was the pull of a trigger and a
silenced voice to convert me; U.S. Soldier, gunman; Murderer.