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Baptism by Bullets
“I do not fear computers. I fear the lack of them.”
In 1967, when I was in the service, I feared combat
--and I worked very hard to maintain my clerical
MOS. Why play hopscotch on the freeway? I had been
taught that fear is good, essential for survival. Beware
the fearless man, for he was an idiot--death in a hat.
I used to have a reoccurring nightmare. I was on patrol,
deep in country--walking point. Suddenly we were
ambushed, The jungle canopy was alive with active
sniper fire--gunshots blossoming all around us. The
nine of us were cut to pieces, and we all went to
Out of the bush, the Cong appeared. I was wounded in
several places, but I played dead. They jabbered a bit
in their clipped sing-song, & then the gunshots began.
They were shooting the wounded. A shadow crossed my
face. I felt the barrel of a rifle against my temple. I heard
the discharge, as a dark rainbow of ballistics exploded
in my head. But then I realized that miraculously I was
still alive. The universe was telling me that they couldn’t
kill me. I always awakened shaken but smiling.
A jungle is not
a garden. Death awaits you.
Do not befriend it.
Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub--Haibun