Letter, 14

Did i  ever tell you  about my friend Les Martzan ... there was no way  he could  get in special force... no way ... he was big  and fat and not athletic ... nothing like a soldier ... thick glasses and  greasy hair... he was  a mess... he was an ex  sailor   .. and i ,ve always  said  that  the saILORS ARE  THE BEST FIGHTERS ...  AND  ME  AND LES GOT  TO BE GOOD friends.... real good friends... he could drink a beer in 3 seconds and  he was the  best  poker player  i ever saw... he didn,t look like a soldier but he ws  the very  best ... he,d huff and puff but  he never felll behind ... and when  i was  lost  i,d get out  my crumpled topographical  map  and ask him for an opinion ... he,d scan the map with sweat dripping off  his nose ... it was no  time to be funny or to be friends ... we were  in tight spot ... and he always gave  me good words... he was  smart ... he was genius.... and he was a good soldier .... then one day  we were making  our way back  and we stopped ... we didsn,t think we were being  followed .. a rest  ... we were all squatting and  whispering  and Les stood  up  and   was  immediatelly shot  in the head ... he died instantly ...  my friend...  we were  only 4 people .. we should  have run...  but we,d never leave Les...  we were  ten  kilometrs before  we could call  for the  1st cav...  we made  a strether and carried him ... but he said to me that he hadn,t spoken  to his parents  in several years .. he  hated his parents  .. but we were  in a war  and  i wonder  what ever  happened  to his body ...  i hope  he got a nice burial ... i wonder where he is now... it could have  been me that stood  up that day ... i think Les  every  day ... Les Martzan ... his name  is on the wall  .. he will be always a  heroe  to me ...