War Game Memories

Imagine peering into black, hearing cans jangle, leaning on the M60, sweating bullets, knowing some little mother fucker is going to slip into the bunker and slit my throat.

I got through another night unscathed. Yeah!


I lived in a 2 man bunker with a brother from Chicago. He was on his third tour. Said he was a Black Muslim and a Blackstone Ranger. He prayed facing east, occasionally. At night he’d get up with his eyes closed and spray piss everywhere. I’d jump up and he’d apologize. He had me convinced his screws were seriously loose, but I was never really sure.


In my 175 and 8 inch field artillery unit we didn’t have worries about  hobbling trench foot or shitty punji stakes. Our concerns were incoming rockets and mortars, but more so the ARVN’s and each other.