I got two more Courier’s today. Read all about the FCA rally and how Jamie Dobbs had a poem of hers read on TV.
They don’t have any flowering trees. At least none that are flowering now. They do have a lot of flowers in out-of-the-way places. There are banana trees with real bananas here. The bananas are only about 3 or four inches long. There’s a kind of tree with fruit that looks like green footballs of various sizes. I don’t know what it is.
We had contact again last night. Called 105mm’s in on some V.C. trying to slide through our AO.
We got sniper fire later on, but nothing else.
The little boy I told you about is Dum-Dum. His mother is dead and his old man is a drunk. He’s practically an orphan. The Marines buy clothes for him and give him C-rations. Some of the villagers also feed him and let him sleep in their houses.
He’ll probably never live to see ten (he’s about six now) he keeps bringing in dud grenades to trade for chow. We blow up the duds and his old man sells the chow on the black market.
Our interpreter, Monkey, is just about in the same boat. He’s eleven, an orphan, and not yet recovered from shrapnel wounds he got when the V.C. attacked CAP 2 a month ago. He stays with us all the time, night and day because the V.C. will kill him if he doesn’t. He’s not big enough to carry a rifle or .45. He couldn’t pull the trigger. He’s very puny for eleven years. Our other interpreter is nineteen, his name is Yankee. We pay him $60 per month out of our own pockets.
The blankety-blank RF’s sell the food and cigarettes we give them and have to bum or steal stuff from us to eat. They won’t steal anything that isn’t left lying around.
My diet is lousy. We live on C-rations. I eat mostly fruit, some crackers, beans, and meat.
We haven’t had any water in two days. We’ve been drinking juice drained from the cans of fruit in C-rations. We hope to get some water today.
We don’t have a damned thing to do in the daytime but sleep and write letters so I’ll keep writing until I get bored. From the amount of letters I write people must think I don’t do anything else. If they do, they couldn’t be more completely wrong. Nighttime is a bitch. This little war is fought almost completely after dark.
I’m bored, will quit.