-
I’m still staring at that irritating NVA flag flapping in a wet breeze that blows over the river when the lull ends as it usually does in Hue. People resume dying.
Dale Dye -
Shake accepted a yellowed slip of paper and unfolded it. It was a page torn from a copy of Julius Caesar. Minh had underlined a passage and written a rough Vietnamese translation in the margin. “`Cry `Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war.' Yes. It’s what I was thinking. It’s what happened on the Long Mountain March, isn’t it?” “Yes...” “It wasn’t the first time. It won’t be the last. Do you remember My Lai, Minh?” “I remember what we heard. Quang Ngai Province. Civilians were executed by American soldiers.
Dale Dye
-
It was a ludicrous, insane situation in which modern fighting men, possessed all of the highly destructive engines of war, were ordered to attack a medieval fortress using no weapons that would destroy or harm it.
Dale Dye -
Code of the Grunt: Do not fuck with Buddha. He may be just another gook but he knows all about payback. When you catch a break in a firefight consider it a wakeup call. Buddha is reminding you that close counts with horseshoes and hand grenades.
Dale Dye -
Seems like making it through this Hue City deal is like trying to run between the raindrops without getting wet.
Dale Dye -
Code of the Grunt: You ain’t Superman. You do what you can and then you try to live with the fact that it wasn't enough.
Dale Dye -
It sounds so stupid...after all this time...to just say I’m sorry...but I am.” “Sorry? You are sorry?” “Yes. Sorry it was you...sorry it was me. Sorry for all the pain. Sorry it had to happen at all.” Minh stared into the monster’s green eyes and for the first time saw something besides hate, lunacy and blood-lust. He saw himself: the same anguish, pity and pain reflected in his own eyes when he allowed himself to look deeply into a mirror. It is not so obvious, he realized, but this man is also terribly scarred. “I don’t know your name...
Dale Dye