When I first arrived 'in country', the amber flash of napalm as consumed the jungle in a wave of death inspired both terror and awe. I used to wince at the sight of it, cowering for cover as if the inferno would turn its ire upon us, as if fueled by the hatred of our enemies. Now, it was a minor nuisance on the eyes; I could feel its heat even from the embankment on the other side of the Mikong and looked upon the bombardment without fear or wonder.
"Look at that shit," Kari shook her head in half astonishment, half indifference, "the smell of fresh cooked gook is enough to make ya sick." The Staff Sergeant flicked her half-lit cigarette into the still waters of the surrounding rice paddy before leaning close in her typical, pestering fashion, "Then again, bonfires can be kinda romantic." Hardly. 8 of our boys KIA, another 5 so FUBAR that they'd never be the same and a dozen or so dead NVA lie not far behind our platoon. Most of us were barely managing to keep it together, but not Kari, who despite the dark bags of sleep beneath her eyes was in rare form; as if killing kept her wired. How a child had managed to rise through the ranks of the US military never ceased to perplex me. Then again, I'd yet to meet almost anyone as cruel as SSGT Akudo.
"War crimes ain't romantic." I added. "We just fried a couple of NVA — maybe — for a whole village; that ordinance was fucked and you know it." My protest fell on deaf ears. It was rare that I disagreed with the Staff Sergeant and she found it to be a welcomed change of pace.
"You're cute, worrying about these zipper-heads," Kari spat, resting her service rife along the reedy mound before plopping down removing her helmet; the flash of distant explosions illuminated the soft features of the SSGT;s face. We often forgot of her youth. That she was a mere child doing the work of men, and a rare breed of men at that. Kari was a killer through and through, yet at times, there was an unmistakable air of feminine youth about her. It was rare that Kari removed her flak helmet, she was usually far too cautious. I had my reservations, anticipating Kari's usual cynicism, and delayed. She found my apprehension endearing, "Don't make a girl wait, Corporal; sit your ass down and enjoy the show."