“Walking tall machine gun man… they spit on me in my homeland”
Alice in Chains
We were hated. We were despised. We were marked as killers, misfits, druggies, delinquents… refuse… and all for following orders.
We knew not one race, creed or color, but came to hate the color yellow… despise the words gook, Charlie, VC, NVA. We wanted only one thing… out… and when got our wish we went straight to hell for our sins… sins committed in the name of our nation.
The Journal of Jack Ironwood aka Sarge - Charlie Company’s 2nd Battalion, 13th Infantry of the 25th Infantry Division
Alice in Chains
We were hated. We were despised. We were marked as killers, misfits, druggies, delinquents… refuse… and all for following orders.
We knew not one race, creed or color, but came to hate the color yellow… despise the words gook, Charlie, VC, NVA. We wanted only one thing… out… and when got our wish we went straight to hell for our sins… sins committed in the name of our nation.
The Journal of Jack Ironwood aka Sarge - Charlie Company’s 2nd Battalion, 13th Infantry of the 25th Infantry Division
Jan 7, 1970
We call ourselves BLOOD PLATOON. When we started in this shit hole that seemed really cool. It fired us up and we got in the shit and started screaming blood platoon we felt invincible.
And then time goes by... and you see your friends die... you see the natives die... you see the enemy die... and then all of a sudden there's too much blood and the title blood platoon just seems juvinile.
Bookers caught a round in the throat today. He had that look on his face when he went down like he knew that was it, and he couldn't even say shit about it. I was holding him when he left the party, his lips just moving barely in time to the slowing beat of his heart. His gaze just faded. The kid was raw, he was a loner, but he was in my platoon and everytime I lose one of my boys I lose a piece of my soul.
I hate this fucking war.
We call ourselves BLOOD PLATOON. When we started in this shit hole that seemed really cool. It fired us up and we got in the shit and started screaming blood platoon we felt invincible.
And then time goes by... and you see your friends die... you see the natives die... you see the enemy die... and then all of a sudden there's too much blood and the title blood platoon just seems juvinile.
Bookers caught a round in the throat today. He had that look on his face when he went down like he knew that was it, and he couldn't even say shit about it. I was holding him when he left the party, his lips just moving barely in time to the slowing beat of his heart. His gaze just faded. The kid was raw, he was a loner, but he was in my platoon and everytime I lose one of my boys I lose a piece of my soul.
I hate this fucking war.
From the diary of PFC Pawel Kachansky aka Dwarf
Jan 12, 1970
I finally got my transfer today out of Bravo company into a more seasoned unit. I was one step away from fragging Lt. Pretty Boy, West point, mother-fucker Austin Green the next time we went into the jungle. I feel bad leaving the rest of the squad behind but there were only a couple of original members. It's mostly new recruits and draftees. Pretty boy's been going through personel like water, or should I say blood?
They put me in a squad with a staff Sargent who is fucking ancient. I think Gunner said he was like 40. He was in the fucking Korean war for crying out loud! He seems pretty cool though and he definitely knows his shit and he doesn't take any shit either. I think he thinks I talk to much. I know the type though. He's iron on the outside, but he'll go to hell and back for his men.
Gunner's real name is Roger Goldsmith. He's pretty cool. He's a big Jew from New York. The guy is like six foot, 250 pounds so they gave him the M60 to carry. I hate that fucking thing. It weighs a ton. Of course we all have to carry ammo for it when we go on patrol and of course the ammo weighs a fucking ton, I hate that weapon.
Corp. White, Trey Freeman and Jefferson Jones are three black guys from all over the country. They go by Spike, Trey and Convict respectively. I guess Spike is from Watts in California, Trey is from Chicago and Convict is from Brooklyn. Trey is huge, but he’s also got a college education so he ain’t no dummy. He’s also the only one without a handle. I guess they all thought Trey was cool enough.
Jackie Jimenez is Puerto Rican and he’s from New York too. They call him Blade and I swear to God he is always sharpening his K-bar. He said he got it off a dead gook that got it off a dead marine. When he’s not sharpening that K-bar he’s sharpening his machete. He’s about the same size as me which means pretty short so he always gets tunnel duty, which means I’m probably going to get tunnel duty too, which I hate, more than the fucking M60.
Eric Manners, Nurse is our combat medic. He’s really serious and kind of quiet, but definitely someone you want to keep on your good side. He’s a chain smoker and although he says the blood doesn’t bother him I’m guessing it really does. He’s got that haunted look like he’s seen way too much.
Book, Derrick Fulbright is another college grad from Boston. I think they said he went to MIT. He’s kind of a wise-ass, but Sarge keeps him in his place. I guess he’s pretty good with the thumper so he’s the unit grenadier. He says it’s all about trigonometry and angles. I don’t give a shit what it’s about just as long as he doesn’t drop one on my head.
The last guy in the unit is Tonto. His Sioux name is Albert Littlebear. He maybe small for a bear but he’s fucking huge for a human being. The guy must be like six foot eight and 280 pounds. I swear to god this guy is every cliché I ever heard about an Indian. He’s really stoic and doesn’t say much, but when we go out in that jungle he is in tune with everything. Sarge always puts him on point, because no one is catching him off guard.
Well that’s it for now. I guess we’re supposed to get some new orders later today. I can’t wait. I’m tired of sitting is this rainy ass firebase all day long just waiting to get shot.
I finally got my transfer today out of Bravo company into a more seasoned unit. I was one step away from fragging Lt. Pretty Boy, West point, mother-fucker Austin Green the next time we went into the jungle. I feel bad leaving the rest of the squad behind but there were only a couple of original members. It's mostly new recruits and draftees. Pretty boy's been going through personel like water, or should I say blood?
They put me in a squad with a staff Sargent who is fucking ancient. I think Gunner said he was like 40. He was in the fucking Korean war for crying out loud! He seems pretty cool though and he definitely knows his shit and he doesn't take any shit either. I think he thinks I talk to much. I know the type though. He's iron on the outside, but he'll go to hell and back for his men.
Gunner's real name is Roger Goldsmith. He's pretty cool. He's a big Jew from New York. The guy is like six foot, 250 pounds so they gave him the M60 to carry. I hate that fucking thing. It weighs a ton. Of course we all have to carry ammo for it when we go on patrol and of course the ammo weighs a fucking ton, I hate that weapon.
Corp. White, Trey Freeman and Jefferson Jones are three black guys from all over the country. They go by Spike, Trey and Convict respectively. I guess Spike is from Watts in California, Trey is from Chicago and Convict is from Brooklyn. Trey is huge, but he’s also got a college education so he ain’t no dummy. He’s also the only one without a handle. I guess they all thought Trey was cool enough.
Jackie Jimenez is Puerto Rican and he’s from New York too. They call him Blade and I swear to God he is always sharpening his K-bar. He said he got it off a dead gook that got it off a dead marine. When he’s not sharpening that K-bar he’s sharpening his machete. He’s about the same size as me which means pretty short so he always gets tunnel duty, which means I’m probably going to get tunnel duty too, which I hate, more than the fucking M60.
Eric Manners, Nurse is our combat medic. He’s really serious and kind of quiet, but definitely someone you want to keep on your good side. He’s a chain smoker and although he says the blood doesn’t bother him I’m guessing it really does. He’s got that haunted look like he’s seen way too much.
Book, Derrick Fulbright is another college grad from Boston. I think they said he went to MIT. He’s kind of a wise-ass, but Sarge keeps him in his place. I guess he’s pretty good with the thumper so he’s the unit grenadier. He says it’s all about trigonometry and angles. I don’t give a shit what it’s about just as long as he doesn’t drop one on my head.
The last guy in the unit is Tonto. His Sioux name is Albert Littlebear. He maybe small for a bear but he’s fucking huge for a human being. The guy must be like six foot eight and 280 pounds. I swear to god this guy is every cliché I ever heard about an Indian. He’s really stoic and doesn’t say much, but when we go out in that jungle he is in tune with everything. Sarge always puts him on point, because no one is catching him off guard.
Well that’s it for now. I guess we’re supposed to get some new orders later today. I can’t wait. I’m tired of sitting is this rainy ass firebase all day long just waiting to get shot.
