"We're going to bomb them back into the Stone Age..." and we sure did. Those were the expectations of the United States of America. We came through their jungles, with conquest in our wake of flames, and now under dusk we take rest at this ruined village. I have been done battle here for almost five long years. Since my unit set off on that sunny afternoon, I'd had a dream; I thought I knew what I was doing. Sustaining the power of the greatest country in the world had been my target. I should be proud. However morning comes; and I see the light of the harsh sun. Hence I can no longer remember the honour that heaved through my heart; it seems like a blur of red, white and blue.

Around me are the burnt out skeletons of trees and bushes, alongside the burnt out skeletons of people; the napalm made no distinction. Now they stand as warped figures, haunting me. Slowly walking on, a devastated cottage looms. Half of it had been burned away, not by me at least... Could it? Scorched stone lanterns littered the garden path; I tread carefully. Eventually I register an object recognisable as a shattered piece of furniture, possibly a small chair. Regret creeps into my heart at last, for it is apparent that this God-forsaken; derelict; obliterated old ruin was once a home, and dare I say it, a place of happiness. Evidently I cannot escape from this self-induced grief; a great, smashed mirror draws out from my dirty feet towards the horizon of deteriorating trees with ravaged branches. A dream ago perhaps it was a paddy field. This was a family's healthy crop, though it bears no trace. Although I know for sure; I saw it burn. My unit started the blaze; the flames now rasp at my conscience. What have I done? Scorched foliage, shattered huts, crushed souls all surge through my head. Guilt is a terrible emotion, making you feel worse than any other. In the Army I never thought much of what I was doing. Maybe my trigger finger did all the thinking for me, but for sure my mind was about to rupture under the strain.

Bearing it no longer, I make a run for it. I vault a twisted railing. Branches, I sweep aside. Still I run. I turn corners hastily. Stumbling, I run on. I don't know where I'm going, but I just cannot stop. In due course I find myself atop a jagged hill, of which overlooks miles of surrounding realms of battered wilderness; this was the face of a country whose lands had been massacred by vicious chemicals and whose people had been massacred by our guns. I got ready to jump. My feet had barely lifted from the ground, when something unexpectedly stopped me.

"What are you doing, Sir!?" Without looking, I knew it was the voice of a young Private from my Unit.

"None of your business!" Turning on the spot, I bellow back at him.

"Sorry sir, I just came here to pee!"

"Never mind." I reply, briskly walking off from the spot. He follows. I take the opportunity to ask him something - what of this culture which we had trampled?

"About these Vietnamese people..." I pause. "I heard they had ceremonies to celebrate the opening of buds - do you know if that's true?" It is clear that from when I ask, he is thinking about it.

"Perhaps." He replies simply, before adding "I suppose metaphorically speaking there are no more buds, what with all the children who have been killed."

"Don't remind me." I manage to utter. Not comforted, I am afraid he inadvertently delivers that 'harsh reality'. I try to resist from asking another question.

* * *

It was still another year before I was sent home. Emotional torture tormented me every day that I was forced to play-out the ever-continuing massacre amidst an unforgiving climate. The only "breath of fresh air" for me was to finally be sent home in 1971. I was given a medal nonetheless; the cold metal of which it was forged seemed corrupt, tainted. Despite the lack of physical injuries and having left the clash unscathed, I still had my crippling regret. It was effectively too late; the worst damage had been done. Hopefully this war will go down in history as a great mistake.

During that same year, I joined the peace protest.