Personal Narrative: My First Vietnam War

We all heard the disquieting crunch, off in the far distance. For a few seconds, we remained still, sinking deeper into the mud, anticipating another sound to calm our nerves. Instead, a fraudulent silence followed. General Loft's reaction was delayed; his hand shot up immediately as he remembered his position. Hurriedly, he waved us down. For a second he starred hard into the dense green jungle, trying to pierce through it with his eyes. Ours were focused on his right hand, awaiting further instructions. His eyes widened, with fear and urgency he turned to face us. His mouth opened, but all we could hear was a neat and tidy screech, travelling through the sharp leaves. Blood exploded out of Loft's neck as the bullet made impact. His fall to

When I first got put in the challenge program I was very scared. I only knew a handful of people and I didn’t know if it was the best fit for me. However, the past 4 years have proven me wrong. I would have been bored and in challenge when you have teachers like Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Hill, you wonder why you questioned yourself.

One day in 7th grade at 6th block it was almost time for Eogs to begin actually they were the following monday and i was talking to natalie.Mr.Clark was talking about something that really bored me ,so talking to natalie was pretty much my only option.I really should of payed attention but you know it was almost the end of the year and no one really payed attention.He wanted us to take notes so i pulled out a bunch of paper.Everybody kept asking me for paper so i got very annoyed.

As I drove downtown to visit Carol and Lee, I looked for a back way back in which would mean that I wouldn’t be seen. I wandered around for a while, eventually finding their house situated a few hundred yards from a McDonald on Bragg Boulevard and saw an alleyway behind the restaurant. I went to McDonald, where I waited a while before exiting into the back alley to see if I was followed. When I was convinced that it was all clear, I leaped over the fence into Carol’s backyard and up to the door.

Six wrestling mats mantled the floors, three in each of the two gymnasiums. A battle was being fought on every one, each and every soldier using all of the weapons in his arsenal. The hands of the victors were raised while the heads of the defeated drooped. The bleachers were packed with spectators. In the thin corridor that separated the two gymnasiums, people shuffled through, walking, talking, and laughing. Wrestlers occupied the indoor track that encircled the upper floor of the gymnasiums. Awaiting their next battle, the warriors prepared their minds and bodies.

It all started in February of 2003 when the Commander in Chief, Jeorge W. Hush initiated the threats against Saddam Hussein. It was my first unit, the first time I got to experience what the “real” Army was like outside of a training environment. We were the “The Deuce,” 542nd Maintenance Company. Things were hectic leading up to this point, and we’ve done a lot of training within our units. We were ready for war, or so we thought. All we had to do was fly.

The sun was rising, people start their daily routines and their commutes to work; the city is about to awake. 1862 Boston, the home of almost 700,000 Americans at the time, remained one of the busiest cities in the world.

I first got into the war when I was in my 20’s. I started training and knew this was what I wanted to do. I wanted to help my country and make it a safer place. I had worked hard and got my spot in the army. Lots of people have asked if I have killed someone before. I just say no because I don't like to get into detail. But, the truth I have killed a lot of people.

Eighteen-year-old George Horton wakes up like every other day that school year to the iterative alarm clock going off at 6 a.m. He walks to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror saying, "This is the last school. This is my last year then I'm free. Only two more months in this hell hole". He goes on to wash his dark Hershey-like skin, and heads to school. George is a senior at his third high school after being kicked out for fights, drugs, and just about anything that would label a student as a "bad apple". He enters his first block class half asleep from being up all night. Mr. Bruckmann acknowledges George as he raises his hand and asks "May I use the restroom?"

The monument that I visited is the war monument in the middle of the round about on Liberty and 4th Street. This monument was erected by the American Legion California Post No. 377 on May 30th of 1937. This monument was then restored and dedicated in 1989 and 1990. This monument thanks those who served in all wars and commemorates a few who passed away.

It was early when we woke up, the sun hadn’t completely risen and I was already starving. To our surprise, we found that the swamps had expanded and overflowed overnight. We camped at a site which we thought was a dry camping area, but when the sun came out we realised the whole forest floor had become one massive swamp. The stench of the swamp was so overwhelming that I suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore. Our balloon basket was gooey and dirty on the outside and on the inside patches of swamp water had seeped into the basket, soaking our sleeping gear and damaging our canned foods. We wrapped all of our spoiled belongings in the tarp and packed up our basket. We inflated the balloon and begun to rise.

I remember something my father use to tell me, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” I remember a time before all of this crap happened, a time where i would sit on my porch, on my favourite chair and watch over my farm. “It was peaceful”, but now, now I'm crawling through the mud, careful not to pop my head up, i don't want to die. The scent of sulfur and gunpowder envelopes the fields, gun shots wring in my ears. I see mud, dirt and the occasional dead body, “god damn I miss that farm”. But now I don't know if ill ever see it again. I make it to an outpost, a little hut towards the side of our field, “Its right next to no mans land” I state to myself. Its dark, so very dark, “If i was at home i would be sleeping”, those were

Sweat trickled down my back and forehead. I felt a single droplet drip off the tip of my nose and splash onto the earthy mulch that had just been spread in the previous week. Stephanie summoned me over to see if my garden claw would be a better match, than the obviously weaker trowel she had been clouting into the ground. Waging war against the stubborn roots thriving in my front yard for ages, would not be an easy chore. We had agreed to help weed, but only in hopes of a cold, creamy reward promised by my lazy father. With a few quick steps, I positioned my body into what my naive 14 year-old logic had apprehended to be the most efficient stance for extracting this stiff shrub. Looking down at the exposed flesh of the half-beaten roots. I prepared myself for my own King Arthur moment, taking short but confident glances up and down my “Excalibur”, which in my fable was sadly only a rusty old gardening fork.

My parents would always tell me, “You have been blessed by being raised in a privileged environment. You do not understand what it is like to grow up hungry and poor.” I would roll my eyes until my retinas felt as though they would detach. “But regardless, always remember that you are Vietnamese.” I would look down to my hands, thinking that these hands were no different from the rest of my peers. They weren’t Vietnamese, they were American; they were happy. If being Vietnamese meant suffering, if it meant the pain of an empty stomach and the mournful sorrows of constant death, then I didn’t want anything to do with it. It wasn’t until the summer of sophomore year in highschool that I had my paradigm shift.

1 year later my story was viewed all over the world, later that day i was arrested for second degree murder. I was later sentenced to 30 years - LIFE in prison. My trial went on for days being shamed for what I have done,people booing me throwing tomatoes at me. Now spend my days 100 feet underground behind 2 inches of steel bars.