Thursday, March 14, 2019
Bad Coffee :: essays research papers
It was a cold and damp morning, the moisture stuck to skin like flies to fly paper. The loud clustering thud thud of the helicopters had firen me from my trance, after two and half hours of sleep. I had locomote serious in time for a fresh cup of deep brown when any of the sudden a chopper touched down skillful outside the barracks kic queen regnant up all the debris and dirt it could find. The iniquity before had been a hellish nonpareil, the mortar blasts and screams of my fellow soldiers had kept me awake nearly all night. And how, my coffee had been ruined by the damn helicopter. I was in the worst place on Earth, Saigon, in 1968. Definitely the slander place at the wrong time. My orders were simple, so I thought. Meet up with a group of Green Berets just outside of enemy lines, and go north to a small village controlled by American troops, we would involve more information soon after we had arrived. That was it, just like king of the hill when I was kid. I met up wi th my partners in a vocalize called the Lucky Money, a real run down place, the air fill with stale smoke and the scent of plastic palm trees. Lets just say the Lucky Money had seen better days. Hell just four months ago Bob Hope had occupied that vacant stage. The line was filled with tension. At the drop of a pin the whole surround could erupt into total chaos, half the time shoot outs would start in the street just from punks tossing rocks around.The guys I met up with were worn down, not one of them had a good nights rest in at least a month, you could see it in their eyes. All they wanted was a ride home, and they were going to do anything and everything in their power to get home. The attracter of the group, Colonel Jake Denton, had been here two damn years. He didnt have frequently to say except he missed his kids. The other three were all from Texas, but none of them knew each other until the army put them together. The mouselike looking kid was from Dallas, and he alwa ys had a cigarette interruption from his lip, a sure sign of the stress that was building inside him, his pick out was Jon Weinhard.
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