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Kathleen asked me, when she was nine if I had ever killed anyone, and like any good father, I said no.
Daddy, have you ever killed someone?
Going back to when I was a soldier in the Vietnam war: It was a foggy night in My Khe, and we split into a two man team. It was still dark when Kiowa woke me up for my final shift.
I saw someone coming out of the fog, he wore black clothing, with a gray ammunition belt, he seem at ease while caring his weapon in one hand.
I had already pulled the pin on a grenade. i didn't hate the youth man, i didn't see him as the enemy.
Later, i remember that Kiowa told me that the man would've died, that it was a good kill, and that this was war.
Don't worry he was going to die anyways
sometimes i sit and read the newspaper and i just imagen the young man coming out of the morning fog and he just smiles at me.
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