blobfish's tales from Charlie

[blobfish]

This is a thread for my tales from the swamps and jungles of Vietnam!

The dinks did this to me in 'Nam. Fuckers pulled out the nails from my right middle and index fingers. They also stuck bamboo under every one of my fingernails. There was one guy–we called him "the Snake"–was the interrogator that went after me the most. One day, one of the VC forgot to put the lock on my bamboo jail cell. I waited until the dinks got nice and drunk on their rice wine, opened the door, and stabbed one of the fuckers with a piece of bamboo that I had sharpened. I took his pistol, and shot three more. After the immediate area was clear, I let out my buddies, and we took all the rifles and ammo we could find, and we took the camp out from under their fucking noses. I went into the Snake's tent, and he was reaching for his Luger. I got the drop on him, and shot the bastard between the eyes. I painted the whole fucking place pink with VC brains that night, and fuck me if it didn't feel great after the shit those fuckers put me through. My fingernails grew back, but it took about three years. I went back to visit Charlie in '85, and I found the place where I shot the Snake. There was a school there by then. I walked in, gave the kids some change from my pocket, and I set a pair of fingernail clippers on the windowsill.

"Your shirt is ugly."

"The year was 1968. Jimbo, Teddy, Joe, Andrew and I were delivering some supplies to SitCom in Saigon. Just some everyday office stuff. We rounded a dirt road, and out of nowhere came a dink grenade. Landed right on the fucking seat of our deuce and a half. Teddy picked it up, ready to throw it out of the truck, and the fucking thing blew up in his hand. I was in the back, with the office chairs. Jimbo was sitting next to me. Fucking VCs blew his arm off. He was lucky. We were the only survivors. I walked into SitCom, Teddy's brains in my hair. Part of me died that day. I think I know a thing or two about ugly shirts."

 

[Mike_Yates]

Aren't you a former state senator?

 

[blobfish]

Aren't you a former state senator?

That was after my days in 'Nam and before my time in the Falklands.

 

[blobfish]

The year was 1967, the Summer of Love. I was stationed in some monkeyfuck jungle, breathing in poison by day and dodging a hail of dink bullets by night. Those things were awful, but the worst was the primitive shit; the kinda shit that those swamp rats have probably been doing for a thousand fucking years. You'd take one wrong step, bend down to pick up something shiny, and you'd have five fucking feet on sharpened bamboo turning you into a shish kabob before you could say "titfuck". One day, Charlie ambushed us on some back ass road. There were fifteen of us in a small convoy, and only six got out. The next day, we came back to collect the bodies after we were sure that the VC was gone. Sure enough, they were, and the bodies were there. The smell was fucking horrid. My buddy, Nelson, was propped up against a tree. I went over to him, checking the ground for mines or trip wires. All clear. Before I can touch him, Sarge calls me over to do something, and another guy, Mick, goes over to get Nelson. He lifts up an arm, and I hear the loudest fucking bang I've ever heard. Fucker sounded like a mortar shell exploding in the Grand Canyon. Mick got turned into fucking hamburger, but no one else was hurt, except some guy that got a little shrapnel in his leg. Anyway, it turned out that those fucking dink savages had hollowed out Nelson's skull and filled so fucking full of napalm that a wink would have leveled fucking Hanoi. A few weeks later, I come to find out which VC turned Nelson into a powderkeg. Turns out, he was hiding under a hut in some rice-farming village not three clicks from where we were stationed. Me and five other guys went out there, found the guy, and shot him in the head. We fertilized the fucking rice paddy with his brains. A week after that, we went to pick up some more dead, and guess what. No, go ahead, guess. Same fucking thing. This time, they hollowed out some colored kid from Alabama. The blast killed two guys. The guy that did it to Nelson was pushing up lotuses, but the same fucking thing happened anyway.

No, evil doesn't die. You kill one evil piece of shit, and two more pop out. 'Nam taught me that.

Fucking VC.

 

[Byron In Exile]

These are boring.

wth??

 

[blobfish]

These are boring.

wth??

That's war, man. Months of unbelievable boredom interspersed with brief moments of unspeakable horror.

 

[Adre]

That's war, man. Months of unbelievable boredom interspersed with brief moments of unspeakable horror.

Sounds like a long conversation with you.

 

[blobfish]

Sounds like a long conversation with you.

Pretty much. I once talked a dink soldier into committing suicide.

 

[unregistered]

 

[blobfish]

Terribly bullshit, even for a work of fiction.

It's meant to mock Vietnam movies!

 

[hobbit.]

It's meant to mock Vietnam movies!

Debbie does Saigon ?

 

[unregistered]