The Story Of Martha

Before I went to Vietman there was this girl, her name is Martha. She gave me letter that i carried with me. Altho they were not love letters, i wish they were. i wish she would love me like i love her. I would imagine us outside having a romantic date. But then i was always brought back to reality, the reality of vietnam. We carried a variety of things, somethings were things that we all carried and some were just things that we carried for comfort. As the days went on more people died, even Ted Lavender died. i blamed myself for his death. i sat in my fox hole and burned the picture's that Martha had given me. I realized that I needed to focus on what was infront of me instead of what was back in the United States.