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Old 02-08-2018, 01:47 AM   #2
Saint
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Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 3,253
Battle Record: 63-35

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Destradamus: "Child Soldier"

Da Nang, 1966...
Vietnam - thick mist & debris of bombs,
A 12 year old, fighting along Vietcong,
Since an infant he - has been in fatigue,
Wielding a bayonet for the 2nd infantry,
Emotionless; affection he'll never show,
Cause conflict is, & all he'll ever know,
Oppose the clever foe, battling casually,
You either be: a combatant or casualty,
Complex strategy, but the plans simple,
Using Guerilla tactics, & hand signals,
Ear to the ground...hear many steppin',
Steady weapon - engage at any second,
A twig snaps!...echo of shots are heard,
Followed by a scattering flock of birds,
Stop-observe...checks & kicks a corpse,
Assured by 4 bullets that hit the source,
They pillage through the riddled camo,
For food, weapons, & what little ammo,
Rest is brief, ceased by distant shootin',
Lieutenant insists on persistent moving,
He trudges through thick dense terrain,
Against the grain with no sense of pain,
Covered by rifle aim & defensive range,
Waist deep in creeks & apparel soaked,
Hunting a scent of fear, & barrel smoke,
Dusk looms the horizon....his face damp,
Nearing the base camp, he gave thanks!
The target is close, 10 yards at the most,
14 soldiers asleep...2 guarding the post,
They laid in wait, & crept from the rear,
Their foot steps seemingly def to the ear,
Weapon is clear: in the case of a misfire,
Thats when a comrade hits the trip wire,
"& here I thought we be taking it over!"
The small bomb displacing his shoulder,
Leavin' his mutilated face in a smoulder,
The sudden blast...awakens the soldiers,
Quickly - he shoots, & mangles another,
While foes scatter, & scramble for cover,
Rifle jammed - so he let that pistol spray,
Ducked to hear the ping! of the ricochet,
Grenade blows & allies swept by debris,
All thought drowned out by weaponary,
His heart began racin' as his chest sank,
He saw a barrage shred up his left flank,
Thats when a stray bullet strikes his gut,
& at this point, he knows his night is up,
He clutches his stomach, closes his eyes;
Lying there he...jerks...twitches...dies...

*gun fire fades into the night*
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