In The Jungle We waited in the line for what seemed like forever. Holding on to our numbers, we all had numbers. My mother wanted to come with me but I told her that I was a man now and that I had to do this on my own. If my number was called and I had to go fight for my country I’m ready. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t a fighter. I was just a kid. Celebrating my nineteenth birthday in the conga of Vietnam was not my idea of fun. I didn’t want to go none of us wanted to go but we had a number. Do you know what it feels like to have a number and to wait for that number to be called because when the number is called your life will forever be changed. Waking us scared daily because the war didn’t stop. I prayed so hard that the day would come and there would be flags flying on the television and the war would be over. American’s celebrating in the street because we won and all of our troupes are coming home. Days passed, to weeks passing, month going by then years of a world with zombies programed to tune into the news everyday to see how many people died in the war the night before.