How To Tell A True War Story
“The angles of vision are skewed. When a booby trap explodes, you close your eyes and duck and float outside yourself. When a guy dies, like Lemon, you look away and then look back for a moment and then look away again. The pictures get jumbled; you tend to miss a lot.”
It was another day for Curt Lemon and his bridge …show more content…
We have reasons to believe a larger group is inside of these jungles. Remember, this is a scavenging mission. Do not engage. Stay frosty. The maze of mangroves. The hot and humid air. Only the half shape banana lit the sky with a spotlight. Whilst they ranged through the grass jungle, needle-sharp creatures fly and land on the lump of muscles. The eerie sounds of the rainforest animals filled the skies. Pellets of rain drops raced down towards the earth. The platoon leader tells Lemon to clean his glasses as they crossed the muddy river north of Quang Ngai. Suddenly, taken hold to evade enemy-held fortified patrols. An enemy boat whisks by the river passing our positions. But not long before, a reflection from Lemon’s glasses a small streak of lightning race across the sky with a loud boom. The enemy’s intensive fire swarmed our key positions. We continued to hold our ground until we heard a small crackle of small arms. And that’s when we …show more content…
“I don’t know. He has been hit pretty bad. Let me check his vital. We have to get him back now!”
“Regroup and fall back to the nearest checkpoint!” said the platoon leader.
As the platoon made their way down the hills under the cover of a massive artillery barrage, we can hear gunshots and explosions. When the bomb-cascading began, we saw Lemon struggling to run with the two guys next to him. But to the culminating bombs, the distinctive Lemon was caught between two worlds, one dead soldier, and one powerless.
“Guys. Help me. I can’t see. HELP.” Said Lemon. Our brothers went back to help him.
“I can’t see without my glasses. Can you try to find it?”
“No. Forget that. Let’s keep moving.”
It was 11:00 a.m. the next day. We were tending to our wounds when Lemon walked across a grassy hill and spotted what looked like a smooth object with glassy sea. He picked it up and yelled, “Hey! Look guys. I found my old pair.” He puts it on, “I can see now.” Then those dreadful cries rung in my ear, and those horrid sights flashed before my eyes. Lemon’s body was lifted into the tree. Curt Lemon was killed by the 105 round when he stepped on