Flies in the Ammo Shack

(A Vietnam War story about Flies, 1971)

It was a sizzling afternoon inside the bullets dump, inside rounds shack-consisting of two rooms, walls built out of particle board, floors or vase of long wood boards-flat timber for the most portion, you might see by means of their cracks, located crooked alongside one another; also the shack was the smite lopsided, practically wobbly, and very broken. Planted in four by 4 beams beneath the floorboards, about a fifty percent foot high, amongst the soft white yellow sand that surrounded it, providing a playground intended for the lizards in order to engage in excitement, unnoticed.

450 bushmaster ammo taken a semi outdated ‘Stars and Whitening strips, ‘ magazine with me when I got to visit the ammo shack (where us soldiers did each of our paperwork for aide and distributing of ammunition to the convoys arriving from a number of locations in the area.

I carried that old ‘Stars and Strips, ‘ publication for a month, until an innovative one came out there, and used it to swish aside flies. We were holding all over the place in the ammo shack-we were infested using them, with their own buzzing around since if we were invaders: fat plus thin bellied data; some dark other people light shads involving dark, long plus short winged flies, biting your arms and face, in addition to ears, behind your current neck, swarming around you, sneaking the shirt sleeves, scuba diving into your sight as though they have been small punishing missiles, trained from the Vietcong to annoy you. -me, us!

There were dead or declining flies, also jogging flies on all the three desks in the two rooms in the shack, filling the atmosphere with putrid debris, aiming to one’s mouth, nevertheless quite content whenever they missed, and merely landed on your own lips. They polluted everything, clinging, and climbing, and even many crawling, inside their fastest gait possible, especially the big fats bellied ones, they’d try to find away but I’d swat them, unfortunately leaving a dumpy-bloody mess, I truly tried to simply frighten them away, but like I stated before-or implied, we were holding already brained rinsed and ready in order to sacrifice their lives for the trigger.

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