TWENTY-FIFTH DAY, THIRD PART, 30 Days Has September
My small cleft was filled with Marines by the time the day moved into late afternoon. I’d finished my letter home, once again extolling the virtues of the local fauna and flora and how the nearly continuous monsoon mist was such a relief from the harsh pounding of the...
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR, Short Story.
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR… The water beating on the cold lakeshore was incessant. Tom lay between the two dumpsters in the alley half a block from the lake, the water lapping along the edge if the nearby shore probably intended by God to be comforting, but it was not....
TWENTY-FIFTH DAY, SECOND PART, 30 Days Has September
The red river was a rivulet of bloody water that happened to be running down the valley, back from the direction the company had to head up into. The major problem, as the Gunny pointed out, was not our movement, air support or even hauling Zippo and the bodies that...
TWENTY-FIFTH DAY, 30 Days Has September
The only 25 series radio military occupational specialty in the company, not already serving one of the platoon commanders, was Hultzer. The only thing I knew about him was that he had been assigned to one of the Project Hundred Thousand privates sent in by special...Subscribe to FROM THE WILDERNESS
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