Our breakfast was interrupted by the weekly arrival of the supplies helicopter. Two Lieutenants stood and rushed out of the tent.

"Alright!" The Colonel said as he stood up. "Everybody to your feet." Davy was the only soldier who did not stand. "Get out there and unload that helicopter."

"Yes sir!" The soldiers said in unison. We began to file out of our benches and out to the helicopter. Davy eased slowly to his feet beside me. He seemed to be in pain. I helped him over the bench and asked him in a whisper if he was okay.

Davy nodded with a pain filled look in his eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah Mick." He trailed.

I didn't believe him because he wasn't standing up properly. He was almost doubled over with the pain he was in. He hadn't seemed alright for about two months now. He was always in pain and continually coughing!

He must have seen me staring because as we walked out of the tent he straightened up and even jogged to the helicopter.

He was a fighter. I'll give him that.

I know if I was in his position I'd just have to deal with the guilt and shame. I wouldn't want to die here. I'd want to die peacefully in the safety of home.

We unloaded supplies from the aircraft and deposited the crates into a supply room. It didn't take long with all the soldiers. It'd become second nature to us by now anyways.

After unloading the supplies Davy went to the Colonel's office. He requested a release from work for the day. Because of the lack of work to be done, the Colonel agreed. Davy walked, hunched over, to the tent. He laid in there crying and moaning the rest of the day.

I sat outside of the tent for most of the day. Mike had asked me to watch him while he and Peter spent some time alone together. I didn't mind. I wanted to write a letter home anyways.

I'd written several letters while here in Vietnam. Most of them were to my mother, but I'd also written others to personal friends of mine. This one was to my friend Harry.

Harry and I had become friends in college. I was an architect student and he was studying music. Harry always dreamed of being a musician. I believed he would make if big someday.

Dear Harry,

How's school going?
The war is going good. I mean, it's a war! There's not much you can say. There's been a lot more fighting recently. More attacks are being made on the town of Chi. It's getting to where I'm having a harder time getting to sleep at night again. I'm no longer worried the camp will be attacked. I'm more worried about a family I've come to know here.

You've heard me talk about Con Trai and Keanu?

That's the little boy and his older sister whose father left them to join the Viet—Cong. I have been taking them food every day and spending time talking to Keanu each time I'm in town.

She's a very lonely girl. She has no one to talk to but me. All her friends are dead or have moved away. She has no family left and is now the sole provider for her younger brother. Except for me of course.

She and I were talking one night and I asked her what she wanted most. She hesitated before answering. But when she did, she said, 'America.' I didn't really understand what she meant so I asked her to elaborate.

"I want to go to America. Con Trai be safe there."

Harry, I want to give that to her. She deserves to have what she wants most. I wish I could be the one to give it to her. I wish I had the money to ship her over the ocean to safety.

I wish you could be here to meet her, Harry. She's very nice, and despite living in a trash made house, she's very clean. Her mind is so far out man! She's very intelligent. Not so much book smart, but very knowledgeable. She knows how to survive, but most of all she knows people.

She hates this war. It has destroyed her family and way of living. Her brother is too young to remember a time before raids, and soldiers, and terror. He is only four years old. But Keanu is seventeen. Close to eighteen. She remembers how it used to be. She remembers peace and a time when you could sleep through the night and not feel as if your life was at stake.

Last week I was visiting her after a raid to see if she was alright. She was, and so was her brother. But when I entered their home she was crying and clutching her brother to her. Her clothes were ripped and although there were no outward or apparent wounds, blood was stained into the dirt and her clothing. I ran to her side and as she opened her eyes and realized I was there she let go of the toddler and I took her into my arms.

"Keanu?" Con Trai asked with tears in his eyes.

I tried to calm the girl, but with her brother there I thought it best not to ask what had happed. When a familiar soldier passed by the house I called out and asked them to take the boy and see if he needed medical attention.

"Con Trai, go with soldier." I told the boy. He nodded and did as I said.

Alone, I finally pulled Keanu off of me and asked her what was wrong.

She would not tell me. She only closed her eyes and wept.

"Keanu, I need to know whose blood this is." I said calmly.

"Mine." She whispered through tears.

"Are you hurt?" I asked frantically. "Were you shot?"

She shook her head no. "Viet—Cong man tell me that if I not do what he said, he shoot Con Trai."She said trying to calm herself finally.

"What did he do?" I asked. I knew what he'd done before she told me. I just needed to be sure. My heart pounded in my chest so hard I thought it might explode. The anger I felt towards that monster was boiling within me. It caused my face to turn blood red as I sat holding Keanu.

She wouldn't allow me to get her medical attention. No matter how hard I tried.

We sat in her home talking out what had happened for hours. The sky was dark and I knew I needed to get back to camp before they locked me out.

"I need to go." I said easing my arm out from under Keanu.

She tightened her grip on my hand and asked me to stay.

"Please. I'm scared." She cried.

I stayed, but not just because she asked me to. Truthfully, I didn't really want to leave.

I love them Harry, and I want them to be safe, in America.

Keanu isn't my only friend here. You've heard me talk about Davy before haven't you?

He's the short British one.

Well anyways, he had a girlfriend here. Her name was To—Mien. She had been a prostitute and probably still was until she became too sick to continue. The poor woman had an STD. I say poor, but she did it to herself.

So did Davy. He knew the rumors and the signs. Still he slept with her! Now he's sick too. He's really bad. I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on him right now. He's inside the tent crying like a baby. The pain he's in forces him to walk at almost and 80degree angle.

He refuses to see the doctor here. He clams they will send him home. He doesn't want to go home. He knows his father will disapprove of him, and he doesn't want to die with his father's disapproval.

If it was me, I'd just suck it up and go home. But to each his own!

Mike has posted me here to watch Davy because he and Peter are spending time alone. After what happened with Peter a few months back, the two haven't had much time to talk. We've been given the day off here so they decided to go into town and find someplace to eat and talk.

There's the raid alarm! I've gotta go.

M.D.

I threw my stationary on the ground and ran into the tent. I pulled Davy to his feet and grabbed my gun and helmet. Jogging out the tent I slapped David's helmet onto him and handed him his gun. Together we jumped onto a dune buggy that raced away, full of soldiers.

My mind was racing. I was panicking. Peter and Mike had been in town. Would they be okay? I hoped and prayed they were.

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