Jigs in the Rounds Shack

(A Vietnam War story about Flies, 1971)

This was a warm afternoon inside the rounds dump, in the bullets shack-consisting of two rooms, walls manufactured out of particle board, floors or vase of long wood made boards-flat timber for the most portion, you could see through their cracks, placed crooked alongside a single another; also typically the shack was some sort of smite lopsided, practically wobbly, and quite broken. Planted in four by four beams beneath the floorboards, about a 1 / 2 foot high, numerous soft white mud that surrounded this, giving a playground intended for the lizards to engage in entertainment, unnoticed.

I carried a semi aged ‘Stars and Strip, ‘ magazine with me at night when I got to see an ammo shack (where us all soldiers did our own paperwork for aide and distributing of ammunition towards the convoys arriving from a number of locations inside the vicinity.

5.56 ammo in stock carried of which old ‘Stars and even Strips, ‘ journal for a month, until an innovative one came away, and used that to swish apart flies. They were almost everywhere in the rounds shack-we were infested with these, with their buzzing around because if we have been invaders: fat plus thin bellied files; some dark other folks light shads involving dark, long and short winged jigs, biting your palms and face, and ears, behind your own neck, swarming close to you, sneaking the shirt sleeves, scuba diving into your eye as if they were small punishing missiles, trained by the Vietcong to annoy a person. -me, us!

There were dead or dying flies, also walking flies on every one of the three desks inside the two rooms in the shack, filling the particular atmosphere with putrid debris, aiming to one’s mouth, but quite content when they missed, and basically landed on your current lips. They polluted everything, clinging, and climbing, and also some crawling, within their fastest gait possible, specifically the big fats bellied ones, they’d try to find away but I’d personally swat them, sadly leaving a dumpy-bloody mess, I really attempted to simply frighten them away, yet like I explained before-or implied, these people were already brained cleaned and ready to sacrifice their lives for the cause.

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