Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Or.. War, Chapter 3.16.68:

He walked away
at less than histrionic speeds of history,
back against the melted green, rifle at rest,
in muffled, thick space, objective lost.
He heard a bootlace harmony,
a simple disembodied scream
trying to get back home.

compelling writing, manz. i envision Vietnamese fighters fading back into the jungle, while US troops retire home to America.

can you tell me a bit about who "He" is? I'm not overly familiar with the history you reference. Thanks

~westie

The write is about the My Lai (pronounced mee-lie) massacre in Vietnam on 3-16-68 in particular, in which soldiers of the Army's Charlie Company, angry and frustrated, were sent on a "search and destroy" mission. Over 500 old men, women and children were slaughtered, by the Vietnamese count, while the US Army admitted to about 350. There are still a lot of unanswered questions about that atrocity, and indeed it was just the sort of thing that John Kerry tried to expose and put a stop to with his 1971 Senate testimony. I wrote (quite loosely) about that event in particular, but I was thinking of that famous photo with the naked, screaming Vietnamese girl running past leisurely retreating GIs with the jungle in flames behind them, which I think is actually a different occurrence...

thanks, i wasn't far off the mark after reading you.

yes, i see that picture too in my minds eye and others.

the atrocities are so horrid i feel sick when i consider them.

you tackle very challenges issues. you are a warrior.

~westie

Thanks westie.

I guess you reach a certain stage in life where you've listened for so long that it's now your turn to answer back.

Oh, and "Trying to get back home" is especially poignant for Vietnam, or any other useless quagmire of a conflict where people are sent to fight against their will and better moral judgment. This includes Iraq, with its repeated extended deployments and "stop-loss" extensions of military service which all amount to a "back-door draft".

true, good points.

~w

Where's William Caley these days????
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He walked away
at less than histrionic speeds of history,
back against the melted green, rifle at rest,
in muffled, thick space, objective lost

I can see him now
(I remember her from
a 1968 Life´s magazine annuary
I still have, maybe...)

great poem, mnaz!!