The ideal

Jigs in the Bullets Shack

(A Vietnam War story regarding Flies, 1971)

It was a sizzling afternoon inside the rounds dump, within the rounds shack-consisting of two rooms, walls made out of plywood, floors or vase of long solid wood boards-flat timber for the most portion, you could see through their cracks, put crooked alongside 1 another; also typically the shack was a new smite lopsided, nearly wobbly, and quite broken. Planted upon four by several beams beneath the floorboards, about a 1 / 2 foot high, numerous soft white fine sand that surrounded this, providing a playground for the lizards in order to engage in excitement, unnoticed.

I carried a semi aged ‘Stars and Strips, ‘ magazine beside me when I had to navigate to the bullets shack (where all of us soldiers did our own paperwork for aides and distributing regarding ammunition to the convoys arriving from many locations inside the neighbourhood.

I carried that old ‘Stars and Strips, ‘ mag for a 30 days, until a fresh one came out, and used that to swish apart flies. These were everywhere in the ammo shack-we were infested together, with their particular buzzing around while if we have been invaders: fat in addition to thin bellied data files; some dark some others light shads involving dark, long and even short winged jigs, biting your fingers and face, and even ears, behind the neck, swarming about you, sneaking the shirt sleeves, snorkeling into your sight as if they were small punishing missiles, trained by Vietcong to annoy you. -me, us!

There have been dead or perishing flies, also going for walks flies on all the three desks within the two rooms with the shack, filling the atmosphere with putrid debris, aiming to one’s mouth, but quite content when they missed, and merely landed on your own lips. 12 ga shot contaminated everything, clinging, plus climbing, and in many cases a few crawling, within their fastest gait possible, specifically the big excess fat bellied ones, that they had try to acquire away but I’d swat them, unfortunately leaving a dumpy-bloody mess, I truly tried out to simply scare them away, but like I stated before-or implied, these were already brained rinsed and ready to be able to sacrifice their life for the trigger.

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