• He opened his eyes, searching for his gun. Blood and dirt covered his whole body. Sweat ran down his nose then *drop* fell to the ground. He looked at himself laying down, then he sat up. There was no light. Tree banished the sun's glistening rays from inside the jungle. Then he saw his gun. Laying next to another bloody soldier. His brother.
    Flashbacks raced through his mind. His brother couching down. The camo war paint on his Sergeant's face. A snap. Spikes going into his platoons medics. Gun fire. Dead.
    He came back to reality. He slowly grabbed his gun. He tried to stand up, but a sharp pain went though his leg. Shrapnel. Using his gun as crutches he limped to the nearest tree. Sticks and dirt covered the ground.
    He remembered watching a man read a news paper about a monk who burned himself alive in protest. Was this what the monk was fighting for?

    2 hours later

    He finally approached the nearest village. Luckily it wasn't wasn't hostile. He looked at his dirt covered watch. Broken. Then he heard some yells from inside the houses. A woman came out and helped him into her house. Then she handed him a cigarette. He pulled out his Zippo (Lighter) that showed a peace sign on it. Damn he thought. His lighter didn't work. Can't get peace for s*** 'round here

    15 minutes later

    He walked up to a Vietnamese boy next to a house. "Heroin" he whispered and gave the boy a couple of Vietnamese papers. (money) The door opened. Shots rang out. He was hit. Then a basket with a cover was thown out the door. He looked at was in the basket. A grenade with no pin.