Contributor: Susan Dale - - ‘Soldiers steadily advancing.’ He fell to the ground, this Cherokee son, fighting in Vietnam. He was laying pressed tight against a log. Tall, thick underbrush concealed him from approaching guerrillas; the guerrillas advancing up from an underground tunnel. A steady stream of them coming to keep coming. ‘Parades of Asian soldiers. As many vietcong, as ants emerging from an ant hill. Marching up and forward with set purpose.’ Sunset to twilight. The blue-black beginnings of night peeking around the corner with starry eyes when he felt brave enough to pop his head up and assess. ‘More, than more guerrillas; all emerging from that same underground tunnel. Fanning out to be here, there, everywhere. Steps cracking branches and rustling underbrush. All taking positions that begin battles with Arvin. Arvin...

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Author: Susan Dale