PVT WOLFE’S POV
Ahh,yes the jungle of Nam. Never know which way gun fire will come from and never know which civilians will be your friend. Ever since I started to work with the LRRPs I’ve felt more alive. Every village raid is another step closer to flushing them out. I do often think about the ones I left behind,unfortunately it wasn’t my choice,but I’m glad that they are safe back home and I’m the one over here. Besides the fighting,the culture is insanely different. The food is great, the entertainment could use some help though,the only thing we do is take turns keeping watch and raiding villages. My partner Larry Thorne,is incredibly talented in the field. It’s scary how accurate some of his predictions are,almost like he’s fought in a war before. Most of the time I’m reminding my platoon to keep fresh socks and dry out their boots,lots of jungle foot going around,and that’s due to wet feet constantly. Most of the men under me claim Larry and I are naturals and should enlist for another tour. I don’t want to as one is plenty and I didn’t even ask for this one. All jokes aside we are surviving and that’s using that word lightly, I try to keep my men happy and hopeful,but sometimes it’s difficult especially when I’m not feeling hopeful. We moved in on Saigon last night it’s one step into fighting them and pushing them back. I have yet to wonder why we are here,this war shouldn’t be fought. As with this letter I’m writing it in a fox hole. Mud is covering my boots and pants. My jacket has blood stains on it,a clean uniform isn’t found around here. The napalm and agent orange strikes are helping out with clearing the jungle,but the fumes and chemicals that come from those strikes smells like a worse off gasoline. The Air Force needs to learn to be more specific about what and where they hit. We have lost a lot of good men in the jungle fires. With a heavy heart I close this letter,it is about time that I get back to the field and continue on survival,if I want to make it home.