Dear Diary

I guess it’s not that often that I write in you but it is about time that I ventilate my frustrations. 

We have just arrived at a new home after a long trip. Two days after I wrote last time a small guy showed up in the village. He didn’t have a uniform but said that he was from the Vietcong. He had a small group of men with him. There must have been around 25 of them all in all. He called for all of us who had been given weapons and said that it was time to go and hunt “Americán”. 

Half an hour later we were already heading out of camp. We were all on foot and there wasn’t a lot of talking. I was wildly excited and couldn’t stop talking to Phan who was also trying to guess what was about to happen. 

We walked for several days. It was pretty clear to us that the small guy, who called himself colonel, had taken the trip a lot of times before. He knew precisely where we were going and where to find small food storages along the route.

I keep thinking that the food might have done more good in the villages around the country because it looked like there was more than enough for the soldiers. But maybe it is like that in a war. There just has to be supplies for the ones who are doing all the fighting even if it means that the rest of the world has to go hungry.

I have no idea as to how long we walked but I think it must have been about 40 kilometers everyday which makes it around 200 kilometers in total. Lucky for us the weather has been decent and we have had enough to eat and drink so everyone has made it to our new camp in good shape.

Part four of the diary on dirty pages
Part four of the diary on dirty pages

By the looks of it our new camp is and old abandoned village. There are some quite nice houses on poles and it is obvious that there used to be a lot of people here living a quiet life in peace. 

There aren’t any women or children here anymore at least not if you count the 14 and 15 year old boys running around with machine pistols as soldiers and not children. This is clearly a soldier’s camp of some sort now and not a village. I don’t know if it is just a stop on the way for us. Maybe we are walking on another day or maybe this will be our base for smaller attacks on the enemy. 

The food is better here. There’s lots of meat. I have lost quite a bit after the long walk and the work I did in the village. I’m not sure that I’m going to put it on again right away even though the food is good and there’s a lot of it. It’s a hard life being a Vietnamese soldier and it doesn’t look like it is going to get any easier soon.

There was a good mood and feeling when we arrived at the camp in the late afternoon. It reminded me of a normal day with the exception of the missing women and children. But everybody was talking and seemed to be having a good time – right up until a belle tolled. Everybody turned silent and went into the small huts and houses. 

Part four continued - the diary by The Dane
Part four continued

At first I thought it was some sort of primitive air raid alarm but Phan told me that it was a safety measure which meant that no fires or visible activity was allowed after dark. 

It wasn’t even completely dark yet but it has given me some time to write again. 

So returning to my frustrations I guess they mostly revolve around the fact that we don’t seem to be able to get to know shit here. No matter who you ask they just shrug. If you ask them where the “Americán” are, they all just point to the south. But they can’t telle you how far away or what else is going on. The colonel knew a little english but the only thing he said to me was “you wait”.

Wait for what? Wait for us to be overrun? For the enemy to find us? For the whole country to be completely destroyed in this shitty war that I’m growing more and more convinced that the Americans have invented just to keep their own population occupied so they won’t have time to discover how fucked up their own capitalism has become. 

Why the hell doesn’t anyone do anything? We just sit around here in a jungle waiting and playing cards.

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