But We Were Fighting for Freedom. Right? Right?!?!

From the diary of Dang Thuy Tram (1942-1970):

25 August 1969

These are harrowing days. Every night the Americans stalk around the hamlet, hide in the rice fields, and then attack a predawn. This morning they surround the hamlet at first light.

I go gown to the shelter, well prepared. Ling in the shelter listening to their shouting and their search above, I feel the full crush of rage and hate pressing down on me.

Sister Thu Huong, who is the village nurse, and her son were wounded in the raid this morning. I used to stay with her. Just last night we sat together and confided our stories and woes until late. It was the first time I'd heard a woman who had born a child out of wedlock confess her pain and mistakes. Her chubby baby, as cute as a European toddler, has two pieces of shrapnel in his lung, near his heart.

I don't know if he will survive.

This is war; it spares no one, not a baby or an old woman, and the most hideous thing about it is the bloodthirsty Americans.