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bullets or raindrops?
both left a trail
that Fall
Two things hit us hard that autumn, the Monsoon rains
and enemy fire. I'd never experienced heavier rain. It almost never rained
during the daylight hours. But, when nightfall came and the hot tropical
sun traveled to the other side of the world, the rain came...in torrents.
So much so, that in
minutes, military vehicles would sink into mud that, moments earlier,
had been dry earth. Often accompanying the rain were hurricane force winds.
The rain and the wind created an eerie symphony. Providing a counter melody
were the creaking and whining of the boats moored on the docks beside
our River Repair Boat barge. The rains were often destructive, laying
havoc to roads, bridges, and com-munication lines. That same Fall, the
enemy struck our base hard. Mortar and rocket attacks were common day
occurrences. Firefights on the perimeters were also commonplace. Automatic
rifles from both sides pelted the area with lethal projectiles,
leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
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