THE HORRORS OF WAR
This is more of a horror story than a ghost story.When cousin David was drafted to serve in the Vietnam war,he was the picture of health,both mentally and physically,but when he came home he had deteriorated to nothing more than a alcholic,drug addicted,shell of a man.
His honor bound duty to serve his country in time of war was cut short due to the loss of his left leg.He lived his life thereafter inside a neverending fog of booze,needles,and pills,but oddly enough,the only time I can remember seeing David sober after his return home from hell,was the day he told me the story of how he lost his leg.
His platoon was stationed along a ridge about a mile away from the front as a backup unit in case the enemy started to advance,and after the third day there thats exactly what happened.
In the days before the advancement,the soldiers spent thier time digging out and constructing bunkers along the ridge for protection.
In the early morning hours of the fourth day the horrors of war began,and by dusk,both sides had sustained great loss of life.The ridge became war torn,it was obvious there would be no winner in this battle,so the enemy forces began to retreat...except for one.
The bunker my cousin was assigned to seemed to be the only one left intact with only he and another soldier named Smitty inside.Everyone liked Smitty,because he was an older father type figure to the men in the outfit,and always called you "kid".
Visibility was low due to all the dust and debris from the bombs and bullets that were flying around.
Suddenly about twenty yards in front of the bunker an enemy soldier emerged from the clouded battlefieled and was charging dead ahead on a suicide mission.
As he got closer David was shocked to notice this"soldier"could not have been more than twelve or thirteen years old,and was carrying a grenade in his right hand.
David raised his rifle and began to fire as the child advanced.When he got within about five feet of the bunker a bullet pierced the kids throat stopping him cold.He fell to his knees,and with a gruesome,unforgettable grin on his face,lobbed the grenade onto the bunker before he fell to the ground dead.
Both David and Smitty scrambled to get out,but it was too late,the bunker erupted in a deadly blast pinning David to the dirt floor,where he lay unconcious.Night had already fallen when he came too,it was pitch dark inside what was left of the bunker.He tried to get up but couldn't.
"You O.K. kid"?he could hear Smitty ask from somewhere in the darkness.
"No,i'm pinned down,I cant move,and my leg feels like it's on fire".
"Im pretty messed up too,but don't worry kid,you're gonna make it,help"ll be here soon".
They both talked in low murmers throughout most of the pitch dark night trying to comfort each other until David passed out again from the pain.
David awoke in the early morning hours to the sound of american voices searching for survivors,Smitty was right,help had indeed arrived.
It took what little strenght he had left,but David began to scream for help.The soldiers started to pull him from the rubble.As they did this,David looked over to see what kind of condition his pal Smitty was in.What he saw sent him into a raving fit.There,among the debris not two feet away from where he had lain pinned down all night long was Smitty's headless body,the grenade the kid threw into the bunker had blow his head completely off.To this day,I believe i'm the only person David ever told this story to,he died of a drug overdose not long after.
Davids cousin John
