Lieutenant Jimmy Cross was sitting alone in the corner reading his letters from Martha as usual. He couldn’t really settle down to understand what was actually going on but in all the mayhem and haphazard happenings of the last day were still fresh in his mind. He couldn’t forget the way Michael’s brains were blown out just in front of him as the shell which landed from the Vietcong slammed into his platoon. Luckily enough there were only a few injuries but the situation could have been much worse couldn’t it?
The latest letter from Martha contained some touching parts; ‘Hey Jimmy, hope you’re doing fine. I really miss you and your love is still very strong in my heart. I don’t really know what’s going on out there where you are but I’m always thinking about you and what you are actually doing. I just hope you will be safe and one day perhaps we can be together forever”.
A tear crept into the corner of Jimmy’s eye as he read those beautiful words. He couldn’t help but feel emotional about all those letters and his situation especially when he was faced with such problems to take care of his platoon who also had their own complex characters and worries to deal with. He looked at Jason who was lost deep in thought as he seemed to be reflecting upon something.
Hey Jason, how are you mate?, Jimmy asked.
‘Im fine, brother, just having a deep thought as usual. Do you think the Vietcong will attack again tonight?’
‘It’s a possibility although I don’t think they will, they took a bit of a beating last night so they will feel slightly hesitant now’.
Night was creeping in slowly but surely and Jimmy was feeling despondent again. He moved along in the undergrowth to gain some peace and to reflect on the letter he received. He prayed for some stability in his life, something which appeared to be completely absent at present, mostly due to the fact that he was packed away here in Vietnam with not much hope for the future and with daily dangers confronting him constantly.
The sun was setting in the distance over the river and the scene was utterly beautiful. Jimmy laid himself out on the grass and closed his eyes with the sound of the buzzing insects in his ear. He drifted off to sleep fortified by his thoughts of Martha and her beauty as well as dread with anticipating of another attack.
A huge bang rent the air just a few minutes after Jimmy had dozed off. The shell landed only a few metres away from the main compound and practically terrorized everyone in the platoon, most of whom had dozed off too. Jimmy called all his men together and asked if there were any casualties at all. When it didn’t seem likely, the whole platoon moved into defensive positions and began scouring the area for possible Vietcong. After a long wait of about three hours, Jimmy decided to call it a day and sent the platoon back to sleep.
Morning came and Jimmy decided to go for a long walk into the jungle although he was not exactly sure where he wanted to end up. He just couldn’t focus on the job in hand with the problems he had with Martha and her letters were constantly consuming him. He could not continue living this life, torn inside of him with all the pain and unhappiness of loneliness yet having to keep a solid espousal on life in the war torn zone. He fingered his gun with aplomb and decided to read another of Martha’s letters.
“Hey Jimmy, you look so sweet in those combat fatigues in the photo you sent me. Sometimes I just want you next to me and the world wouldn’t matter anymore. I really think we are made for each other sometimes. School was okay today, we had some interesting lectures about philosophy but I just sat there thinking of you almost all the time without much care in the world. Sometimes I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you Jimmy, you are so dear to me”.
Another tear crept into the corner of Jimmy’s eye as he read those heartfelt words. Once again he felt his heart being tugged into a million directions and he really couldn’t continue going on like this although at some stage he knew all this might end really abruptly.
He walked back to his platoon colleagues and saw them moping about with the fear of alst night’s attack still imprinted on their faces. Young boys almost all of them, some barely 20 and they had seen all sorts of hell already. Life isn’t fair, Jimmy said to himself and he sat down trying to get something to eat from his mess tin in the process.
Works Cited:
O’Brien T; The Things They Carried; New York; Thomson Gale 2006, Print
