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Edited on Sat May-08-04 07:08 PM by markses
Rafter Man starts taking some pictures of the squad. Crazy Earl puts his arm across the shoulders of the man next to him. The man has a bush cover pulled down over his face and a beer in his hand. "Hey photographer, you want a good picture? Here man, take this. This it my bro," says Crazy Earl, removing the bush cover from the man's face. "This is his party. He is the guest of honour. You see, today is his birthday."
The man next to Crazy Earl is a dead man, a North Vietnamese corporal, a clean-cut Asian kid about seventeen years old with ink-black hair, cropped short.
Rafter Man looks at Joker. Then he starts taking shots with his Nikon.
Crazy Earl hugs the North Vietnamese corporal. He grins. "I love the little commie bastards, man. I really do. They're as hard as slant-eyed drill instructors. They are highly motivated individuals. Hey, take a couple like this." Crazy Earl poses, Rafter keeps shooting.
"Grunts understand grunts. These are great days we are living, bros. We are jolly green giants, walking the earth with guns. The people we wasted here today are the finest individuals we will ever know. When we rotate back to the World we're gonna miss having somebody around who's worth shooting. Hell, it'd be okay with me if he came to America and married my sister."
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