But she did not wave back. That afternoon, flying back to Hue from Quang Tri in a helicopter, I saw a landscaped full of round holes. It looked like the surface of the moon. I asked the Vietnamese pilot. And what could those adults possibly say that wouldn't make them think the adults were all mad.
War is a very strange thing.
How it comes about. How it ends. I don't think that even if I live to be a hundred years old that I would ever understand it. All I know is that I could still hear them in my dreams sometimes, those horrible bombs, echoing rhythmically across the oceans and continents. All Rights Reserved.