Thought I'd share some writing. This was an English assignment. We were supposed to put ourselves into the character of someone in an event in history. I chose Vietnam. It's my favorite piece from school. I did have to edit pieces of it for language(PG! Yippee!) Because I was trying to go for the full feel of the writing. I figure, if it's going to get censored anyway though, i should change it. Parts might have missing words because my comp censors odd words like 'girl','model', k i l l (well, I understand this one. But I really can't take it out of the piece. Nothing would make sense.

Here it is:

Ryan Evans, brother

Hmm…Vietnam. There’s a lot to say about it, that’s for sure. I was close to five years old when the war started, so I basically grew up with it. It didn’t worry me much though, and I didn’t think much of it. I figured it’d be long over by the time I was old enough to go to war. It was somebody else’s war anyway. Somebody older. Somebody stronger. Somebody who I didn’t and would never know. Not many people cared much for the war either. It was just a Stupid War to them with Stupid People. I’m not saying that I ever thought that. I mean, how could I…after all that happened.

No one really stopped to think much about all of the soldiers. To them, they were just names. Names and numbers. The toll meant nothing. The names read off the list meant nothing. They didn’t know…and sometimes I think they forgot. Forgot that the soldiers were people’s friends, fathers, mothers, cousins, uncles…brothers. Everyone was pretty ignorant. They viewed it as a stupid way to lose so many Americans. I even remember my grandfather telling me that anyone who went to over to Vietnam was foolish. That they were just asking to be k il led. I disagreed. Maybe it was just my way of always looking at the glass as half full, but to me, the soldiers were displaying patriotism. Together they were just one big spectacle of the American Spirit. So willing to leave home and give up their lives to support our country.

I mean, I’m not saying I was totally for the war. I don’t think anyone was. I don’t believe that the war itself was truly even our war. So, I can see why people called it stupid. I’m just saying, to call the soldiers stupid is a crime. I’d thought that from the beginning…and now, looking back, I know I was right. They weren’t stupid. I’ll call them passionate for lack of better word. Slightly blinded by their fury or eagerness, whatever reason made them go to war in the first place, but passionate all the same.

I’ll never forget that day in ’69… my senior year of high school. I came home from school and opened the door, only to be pushed aside by James. James was my older brother, by two years. He was on his way to an Ivy League school in just a week or two. He pushed right past me and threw open the door to his pick-up. He swung into the car and slammed the door shut behind him. The whole car rattled with his anger. All he had with him was a duffel bag, so I knew instantly that he wasn’t making an early departure for college…and that he probably wasn’t going to be coming back from where he was going too soon. He drove off right then. Just like that. He never said a word to me. I could hear my mother’s sobbing, that caused a pain in me that only a mother’s sob can. My father ran right past me too, actually chasing the car down the street. It was too late though…James was gone.

It wasn’t a surprise to me when I found out that he was headed for Nam. He’d been threatening for months, though I’d never thought he’d actually have the guts to do it. All of his buddies had gone over and come back. And now they were all rested in the cemetery down the road apiece. James told me one day, that all he wanted to do was ki ll one Vietcong. Just one. And I remember thinking of how stupid that sounded. When I asked him why the hell he wanted that, he told me for revenge. And I’m not kidding you, he genuinely thought that kil li ng one Vietcong was somehow going to numb the pain. I could tell by the fire in his eyes that he meant it…and the second I saw that fire, I was darn lucky that I wasn’t the poor Vietcong that was going to get kil le d. My parents, at the time that he left, had thought that he left because he was mad at them. They actually blamed themselves. I knew differently. He was mad at the world. He was mad at Vietnam….He was mad at himself. He felt like if he had just gone over there with his pals, that he could’ve been a hero and saved them all. And when he told me that, I thought it was the biggest line of baloney((this sounds funny, but i had to edit out the real word))I’d ever heard. Still do, actually.

Anyway, James was so mad that at first, he didn’t write anything. We didn’t hear from him at all, and I didn’t expect to for the twelve months that he would be touring for. I was wrong though. About two months in, I got a letter from him. Not may parents. Me. I was the only one he wanted to talk to. I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t going to question it. Despite the fact that he some wacky priorities, I’d always looked up to him. He told me all about Vietnam. The places he’d gone, all the junk he had to carry around, the M-16s they were issued.

He told me that he hadn’t kil l ed anyone yet though. That he hadn’t had the opportunity yet. The letters always ended the same way: Your One and Only Brother, James…P.S. I haven’t ki lle d anyone yet. It was always the same. And I’d just sit there and shake my head. It almost became comical after a while. Like, if I passed him casually on the street years later, I’d just ask him so offhandedly, ‘Kil le d anyone yet?’ and he’d say, ‘Nope. Not yet.’ I get the feeling it was just out of fun after a while, and I started to begin my letters with: Dear James, I haven’t kil le d anyone yet either.

My parents were still a mess, even though I insisted that James wasn’t mad and he just wanted to talk to me because I understood him better. They couldn’t grasp that concept. Mom would sob and sob, begging me to let her see the letters, but as James had instructed, I refused to show them to her. It was hard to see Mom like that. She started to get better as time went on. James was such a good writer that I could almost hear his voice when I read the letters. We became closer within those months than we had been in all of our eighteen years together. Vietnam became a wonderful thing to me. I loved Vietnam. Kids used to think I was a freak or something. Not only did it bring me closer to my brother, it brought me to Al.

Al had started school with us that year. Most of the time, he blended right into the background. Finally, someone mentioned him to me, saying that he was actually twenty years old. He’d served a tour in Nam and was now finishing up his Senior year that he missed. I approached him, and we started talking. He told me all sorts of war stories. He’d had a heck of a time there. He’d lost all of his buddies, just like James. The thing that I liked about him was that despite all that he had gone through, he was able to laugh about the war. He laughed during every story he told me, no matter how serious and grave it was. Every morning, when he’d come to my locker he’d ask, ‘So how’s the war this mornin’ Ryan?’ And it was always good.

As agonizing as it was to be away from my brother whom I had bonded with so much for those first eleven months, I’d somehow made it through. I’d made it to the one-month marker. I wanted some way to gauge how close I was to his coming home, which I found out would actually be on my birthday. I figured a paper chain was too juvenile. I wasn’t a kid anymore. Ripping paper wasn’t anything to get excited about. I finally settled on lighting candles, as y as that seemed. I was embarrassed, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I spent about two month’s allowance on buying those thirty candles. The last one was red, white, and blue, whereas the others were just white. I wanted James to light that one once he was home. I set the candles up in the window where any passer-by would see them. I left them lit for an hour each night, so they wouldn’t burn out too quickly.

I did it almost subconsciously, so when I finally remembered the meaning of the candles, I found that the only candle left was the red, white, and blue one. I got so excited. I started running around making sure everything was just right for when James got home. The next morning was a Saturday, but I was up at the of dawn anyway. I found my birthday present waiting on the table for me, but I didn’t care about it just then. I was waiting for James to come home. My parents were still asleep when a fancy black car pulled up to the house. To my surprise, James didn’t step out of the car. It was another man. He appeared to be a soldier too. I figured he was a friend, and James was going to be there in a few minutes…until I noticed that this guy had James’ duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

He stuck out his hand. ‘You must be Ryan. You look just like your brother.’ I felt a sense of pride rush through my body. ‘I’m Lt. Jacobs…’ He told me as I shook his hand. He dropped the duffel bag at my feet. I could see tears welling up in his eyes. He suddenly pulled me into a hug and I was sort of weirded out. He pulled back. ‘I’m sorry…I tried.’ I must’ve looked pretty confused. Jacobs took a letter out of his pocket and handed it to me. He then pulled a small, wrapped box out of his other pocket and handed to me. I figured he’d hang around for a few minutes, but he practically ran out the door. Like there was something in the house that scared him. Like there was something that he just couldn’t take. I opened the box first, after pulling James’ duffel bag into the kitchen. In the box were James’ dog tags. I smiled and put them around my own neck.

I plopped down on the couch and read through the letter. It was messier than usual, I remember. I planned to give him what for when I saw him. I read through the letter and my heart sank. He seemed rushed. In big letters though, was written I finally k il led someone. I was so excited for him…well, sort of. I mean, kil lin g is sort of heartless, but at least he’d done what he’d set out to do. It continued on to say that he was finally freed of a burden, but it wasn’t because he’d gotten revenge. He’d actually an in the act of saving one of his comrades. That made me smile even more. He said that it wasn’t about getting even in the end. It was about setting yourself apart from the rest. In this sense, that meant not ki ll ing someone for the heck of kil lin g them. He abruptly wished me a happy birthday and said that he wished that he could see my graduation.

I started to get worried.

He was sorry that he wouldn’t be there. He wanted me to know that when I got married, he was going to be there in spirit.
My hands were shaking.

That he would watch over my kids if I ever had any.

I was sweating.

That he loved me. Then he signed it. Your One and Only Brother, James. …P.S. I’m going to miss you. Make sure they bury me with the gang. There’s a primo space right in between…

I didn’t even read the end. I started bawling. Mom came running downstairs with Dad on her heels. They saw the duffel bag, the dog tags, and put two and two together much faster than I did. The candles were still burning from the night before. I grabbed the car keys and James’ duffel bag and ran out the door. I jumped into the car and started to drive away. Right to the airport. I got headed off about halfway there. Not physically. Not by a car. By James. I remembered what I had just read. It was about setting yourself apart from the rest. And I turned that car around and drove right back home. I wasn’t going to be like one of the others who ran off to war to avenge someone.

I walked right through the door with the duffel bag still in hand and ran up to my room. It was tough of course. I left those candles burning for weeks afterward. I let them burn right down. All except the last one. I put it on his grave. I was leaving it there for him. For when he finally came home. I never changed my mind about running to war, either. I stayed right where I was. I busied myself with setting myself apart from the rest. I started up a prayer group for all of the people near by who had lost someone. I held ceremonies in remembrance. Al was my right hand man. He’d ask me still, ‘How’s the war this mornin’ Ryan?’ and now I would answer ‘Great. How could it not be? They’ve got an angel looking down on them now.’

So, it was painful. It was one of the most memorable times of my life though. I guess it is for most people. Truthfully, if I had the option to go back and stop James from leaving, I wouldn’t. He needed to do what he did. It was his destiny. It would’ve haunted him otherwise. I needed him to do that so I could learn from him. That morning that I found out was an awe-inspiring event for me. I look back and still can’t believe it possible to feel so many things at once. Sad. Excited. Angry. Confused. Curious. Happy….Proud. There was an undeniable sense of Pride. My brother was a hero. And even now I tell people that. My brother was a hero. He fought alongside all the other soldiers dutifully. He served our country. He taught me about life. He truly was a hero to the man he saved and the man’s eight children.

So in a wrap-up, I guess I will say this: I don’t think anyone will ever know if Vietnam was on a whole good or bad…I would just say that it was. And because it was, my life changed for, as far as I can tell, the better. As sad and psychotic that may sound. …I guess a lot of bad things in life will be worth it in the long run, because they help us to cherish the good things in life and sometimes even lead us to the best things to come for us.

The End. Sam

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<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

i cried in that one, Sam. you really are a wonderful writer and i know i'm going to lose that contest now. *mumbles something about being unfairly matched* it was very good, that is one of my favorite times in history also. i'm very glad that you wrote that. it is something i will always remember.

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

*tears up* did u really cry, or are you just saying that?

Vietnam is one of my fave times too. I read a book about it. I have never been so touched by a book in my life. It tore me to shreds to read it, but I finished it in two days. I was numb for days after. I had nightmares about Vietnam...but it still remains one of my favorite books. If you like Vietnam, you should read it. It's called The Things They Carried and its by Time O'Brien.

I'm glad you like it tho

Sam

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

i'm not just saying that. i was in tears and had to stop reading for about ten minutes before i could finish it.

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

*tacklehugs* So THAT'S why you were gone so long. I really did miss you while you were gone. *looks around and then tacklehugs again*

Sam

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

Ok now .... i'm gonna try and do this without crying......
Ok that story was very very very good. i loved it ,but I am in bad shape right now cause I just had to go and ship my dad back out on R&R and that was sorta a little to much of one thought for me...... * seriously starts crying* That he might never come home......

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"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

*starts sobbing* Oh my god! I am so sorry! I will pray for his safe return. Thank you...*hugs Leaha, still crying*

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

* still crying * Thank you ... I really havn't thought about it much and I wan't going to post n here and tell you how much I liked it cause i knew i would burst into tears ( like I did) so I told Lilli ( who Pmed me in the first place to read it and post) That I wouldn't post.... and she was all....wait I shouldn't talk bout that * deep Breath* ... Might make her mad.....

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"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

OMG!!! Leaha!!! from what Sam just PMed me i had to run over here to see if you said you dad had died!!! my gosh, i'm SO SORRY! please forgive me! i was crying on the way to see what you posted... don't scare me that bad again! both of you!
*gives Leaha cookies and hugs*
*then faints*

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

*didn't mean to scare Lilli* Sorry...again, my bad on the phrasing. I thought you would understand what I meant when I said that. *feels bad again*

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

its OK, i think i'll be fine... if my heart ever slows down that is.

_________________
<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

Sorry ... i just sorta lost it when I read it and i hope you don't mind Sam if I PM that to my dad....He is so spoilled over there ....he has a laptop ....and his own tralior....and a PSP...and a bike.....and he gets cookies almost evrey mounth........

_________________

"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

Well, he deserves tobe spoiled, eh? Let's just have presidential pardons all around *group hug* I would definitely not mind if you PM it to your dad Again, my dearest sisters, thanks for the comments

Sam

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>

Leaha? could you please answer my PM?

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

I did and Sorry if I scared the crap out of you .......

_________________

"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes -- it approaches to cold-bloodedness"

*hums* Anyone else have any comments?

Sam

_________________
<center>
Can't take the Kid from the Fight take the Fight from the Kid
engaged to Tyson Ritter-my love forever
<a href="http://www.dance-to-this-beat.net"> Dance to this Beat</a>
</center>