“I won't hump no dead guy,” Callme says.
“Dinks don't weigh much,” Pea says.
Callmeblack makes his big black hand into a big black fist and drives it into his wadded-up poncho. Then he half buries his face in the poncho and either sobs or sighs.
Dear Dad: You won't believe this. Dear Brother Bob: Go to Canada. Dear President Johnson: Could you do this? Dear God: For my mother's sake, numb me. (f*****g jail! … Everybody knows the horror stories about military prisons, especially in The Nam). There's nothing fair about some Army officer three kilometers away telling us to obey this insane order or go to jail. But why should I expect fairness? I'm in the Army, and the Army is in a war. It's simple. I don't have any choice.
So I'm the first one to move. I stand up and unroll my poncho.
I'
