I ate ham and lima beans while the mosquitos ate me. The repellant backed them off but there were plenty of FNG mosquitos to replace the ones who flew away. I wondered if the drugged mosquitos flew out over the A Shau, and then finally spiraled in after not being able to fly over the wide expanse. If a mosquito fell from the sky what kind of impact did it make? I finished the can and stuck it into the little hole I’d dug next to my big hole for such garbage. I’d almost asked Fusner about how much stuff was left along the way by moving combat units of men. We had two hundred and some odd ‘swinging dicks,’ and the NVA opposed us with at least that many. So, if every man ate, and then went to the bathroom, without there being bathrooms, twice a day, then how much garbage, to include cans and wrappers and other used up papers and junk, got buried along the way every day? I knew it was one of those vexing questions that nobody would have an answer to, and the asking anyone of would only lead to frowns and shaking heads.
The night came and the Gunny along with it.
“What’s the plan?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.