fdelano Posted November 23, 2011 Share Posted November 23, 2011 Pairs of teenage boys bounced 150 pound packs, slung between them on a pole, its length perfect for the rhythm that shifts the weight up and down to average 70 pounds or nothing for each black-clad boy to bear. They walked the ancient "Old Man’s Trail," winding with the terrain, fixed rest stops for rice and tea. They had not been warned of the dangers of bombs from planes unseen, but they would fear their sergeant more than any tales of danger. Six month’s of training and culling produced teams of hard-muscled and mentally prepared load bearers, intent on never shaming themselves or their comrades without weapons. Arms and other supplies they hauled for uncounted miles, watching the ground and their used tires sandals, threading along the trail at the foot of kharsts and across slat and rope bridges, spans that were repaired almost daily. Those that survived, returned, passing new units that continued the march like caterpillars along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Now the survivors are old men with white beards and memories, wearing the same type of black pajamas and rubber flip-flops on their feet. Little has changed except there are no more bombs. Those of us who flew the planes and rained bombs on the flow miles below, now have time to wonder what it was all for, and tote up our guesses of the number of casualties, with private body counts. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JoelJosol Posted November 23, 2011 Share Posted November 23, 2011 I like how the plot unravelled, keeping my interest through to the end. I also like the tone of the Narrator, spoken matter-of-factly, of something really poignant as the violence of warfare. I also liked the internal rhyming scheme and alliterations. Quote "Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
goldenlangur Posted November 23, 2011 Share Posted November 23, 2011 Hi fdelano, The reference to Ho Chi Minh Trail suggests the Vietnam War: Those that survived, returned, passing new units that continued the march like caterpillars along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. A terrible rite of passage, both in terms of the war and the men's own emotional and psychological scars: ... mentally prepared load bearers, intent on never shaming themselves or their comrades without weapons. Yes, what a horrendous 'load' they carry beyond the conflict and into their old age. Thank you. Quote goldenlangur Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eclipse Posted November 24, 2011 Share Posted November 24, 2011 solidly crafted and a pleasure to read Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted November 26, 2011 Share Posted November 26, 2011 Agreed with all above, fdelano. Expressed with trademark understatement and subtlety. "Toting" the "private estimates" bespeaks on-going "portage" of a different kind for the narrator. Nicely done. - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
fdelano Posted November 27, 2011 Author Share Posted November 27, 2011 My heartfelt thanks to all who found something in this piece. The Ho Chi Minh trail was, of course, bombers main target, trying to cut off the supplies to the south. Dave, your catch on the use of "toting" was true insight. fdh Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abstrect-christ Posted January 24, 2012 Share Posted January 24, 2012 everything's been said -- nicely expressed Delano. Quote Pinhead "Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh." Joey "I don't believe you." Pinhead "Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume. To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart." "There's a starving beast inside my chestplaying with me until he's boredThen, slowly burying his tusks in my fleshcrawling his way out he rips open old woundsWhen I reach for the knife placed on the bedside tableits blade reflects my determined faceto plant it in my chestand carve a hole so deep it snaps my veinsHollow me out, I want to feel empty"-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreakerhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBPy3xNwwL8 "Sky turns to a deeper grey the sun fades by the moon hell's come from the distant hills tortures dreams of the doomed and they pray, yet they prey and they pray, still they prey"-- "Still They Prey" by Coughhttps://soundcloud.com/relapserecords/sets/cough-still-they-pray Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.