Take me out of here! This pin gun flare behind your ear will blow your nose from this end. Drive asshole! Now, that we are clear of your black pajama cowboy boyfriends, let’s get real. You were setting me up.
Take me to the address on the paper I gave you. You wanted those cowboys to kill me and take my money. Well, asshole you picked the wrong guy. Now take me to that address or I will blow your head off and steal your taxi. I’m staying in Saigon tonight.
I remember getting out of the cab with pounding in my chest. Fearful and pumped. I was trying to meet up with my special bar girl. Her name is Mya, or at least that is what I call her at the bar. She takes good care of me. The bar girls are our main source of bought affection. Mya is my favorite. She is older, maybe twenty-eight. She supplies affection and tending for money. All the bar girls smell good and flirt with us. When you are thousands of miles from round eyed girls your age, Vietnamese bar girls are very desirable. They are in the war also. They sell their bodies for money to survive. Women have few legit jobs in the city. They make their money off G.I.s. that get time off and can get into Saigon. American CIA and government officials do not indulge in bar girls. They are big time. Most have a Vietnamese girl friend that they maintain in high style. I bet they do not write home about those arrangements…
Close Encounters in War 
This is just good, honest, raw stuff. I’ve never been close to a war in my life, so I have no idea what it’s like. But after reading this, I feel I have at least a small understanding of how war affects some men. My biggest takeaway from this, besides Mya of course, is the sense of lawlessness in a war zone. It must have been terrible and I admire those who survived it. Frankly, I admire those who didn’t survive it too.
LikeLike
Thank you Michael, we appreciate your comment.
LikeLike