(A Vietnam War story about Flies, 1971)

It was a very hot afternoon within the ammo dump, inside ammo shack-consisting of 2 rooms, walls made out of plywood, floors or vase of long wood made boards-flat timber intended for the most part, you might see via their cracks, located crooked alongside one another; also the particular shack was a smite lopsided, almost wobbly, and very broken. Planted about 12 ga shot by several beams beneath the floorboards, about a half foot high, between the soft white fine sand that surrounded it, giving a playground for the lizards in order to engage in entertainment, unnoticed.

I carried a semi old ‘Stars and Whitening strips, ‘ magazine with me when I experienced to go to the bullets shack (where us all soldiers did each of our paperwork for aide and distributing involving ammunition for the convoys arriving from several locations inside the location.

I carried that old ‘Stars and Strips, ‘ publication for a 30 days, until a brand-new one came out and about, and used this to swish aside flies. They were just about everywhere in the bullets shack-we were infested with them, with their particular buzzing around since if we had been invaders: fat and even thin bellied data; some dark others light shads associated with dark, long in addition to short winged jigs, biting your fingers and face, plus ears, behind your neck, swarming around you, sneaking the shirt sleeves, snorkeling into your eyes as though they have been small punishing missiles, trained with the Vietcong to annoy you. -me, us!

There was dead or dying flies, also going for walks flies on every one of the three desks inside the two rooms with the shack, filling the atmosphere with putrid debris, aiming in the direction of one’s mouth, yet quite content whenever they missed, and simply landed on the lips. They polluted everything, clinging, in addition to climbing, and even several crawling, in their quickest gait possible, especially the big fat bellied ones, they would try to get away but I would swat them, unfortunately leaving a dumpy-bloody mess, I seriously tried out to simply discourage them away, yet like I mentioned before-or implied, these people were already brained cleaned and ready in order to sacrifice their existence for the trigger.