Sex and the Vietcong
zodiac at interlog.com
Sat Apr 13 08:00:34 MDT 1996
Robert Malecki <malecki at algonet.se> writes:
>Louis were you abstaining from sex and drugs in Vietnam or just naive..
Look, Robert, I know Louis makes light of his experiences in Nam, and even
exaggerates as a joke, a bit, but those were tough times. That's where Lou
and I first met each other. I was born in Wabash. And volunteered for
service, believe it or not. The war seemed so different in October 1966. I
was just kid, 18, and I ended up in Lou's squad. He was the platoon
sergeant, but I was in his personal squad. He was older and knew all the ropes.
Naive he wasn't -- and no fucking way I'm gonna let you call him that!
Man, I don't know how many times he saved our asses, getting our whole
platoon -- shit, sometimes the whole company -- to dog certain patrols. Sure
enough, it would turn out Charlie had that stretch of property bore-sighting
with some serious ordinance that night and some other poor suckers wandered
in. But not our platoon. Guys in other squads never knew why we lead this
"charmed" life, but because we were right _with_ Lou, we could see he was
calling the shots, when to follow orders from battalion and when not.
Then we got shipped off to the fucking Mekong Delta in Feb 67. We had no
idea what we were in for. On the 16th -- I remember it clearly, it was a
Friday, my social programming still was set for "the weekend is coming"
anticipation -- Charlie opened up on the choppers like it was hell spitting
up at the angels. I never saw so many choppers go down in one day, rockets
were flying up out of nowhere all day long. But then it was pay back time
for the massacre of some innocent civilians in sampans on the Bassac about
three weeks earlier. In the middle of that hell, Sgt Lou kept us right in
the action, yet right out of the firezones. And we stayed loose with his
endless stash (always the mindexpanding stuff, never smack and that shit,
Lou was cool).
At first we just thought Sgt Lou had some kind of weird "sixth sense" that
you get as a hardened combat vet or some such crap. But the truth slowly
came out. You can only pass around a cone of Laotian purple so many times,
man, before things start to slip. And Lou started letting me see some of his
literature. Believe you me, Uncle Ho begins to make some kinda fucking sense
after you been slogging through rice fields for 60 days. There was no
turning back. Everything I'd been raised to believe about the USA turned out
to be a goddamn lie.
I thank Louis Proyect for saving my ass on the Mekong more than once, and
freeing me mind with his combination of STP and NLF.
I did my tour and was outta there. And I hooked up with some contacts back
in the US that Lou gave me. By 1969, I was chased into Canada. Been here
I know Sgt Lou stayed on and ended up in the fireworks of Tet 68. Ended up
in Khe Sanh, in fact. Figures. He always was a crazy fucker. (Check the
April 1968 Newsweek about Khe, that's Lou in the flak jacket with all the
writing on it.)
So hands off Sergeant Lou Proyect. He's done his service for the revolution.
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