Soda • Vietnam War

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*Soda's P.O.V

The day it was made official, we all cried - even Darry. I remember that look on his face, I swear I hadn't seen his eyes turn grey like that since Mom and Dad died.

"You don't have to go Soda, really."

He said that, quiet at first. It sounded more
like a plead than a statement to me, but Darry never pleaded. Not to anyone. This desperate plea fell upon deaf ears because no matter what he said to me - I'd made my decision. If he couldn't go off to fight, then I ought to. It seemed like Darry thought he'd lost me before I'd even left.

I passed all the fitness tests and signed down my name - right there in writing "Sodapop Curtis, US armed forces"

Even if I wanted to back out now, it was too late.

They said I looked great in my uniform, with my hat and fake grin. Nobody likes war, you've got to be crazy to. But you know, you have to smile. For your country, your family and anyone that means anything to you. I was smiling for Ponyboy's sake. He bawled so hard the last night we'd share a room.

"P-people die at war Soda...I-i don't want you to die." I had to watch my kid brother sob, hearing him say that just about broke my heart.

"I won't die Pony, don't you worry, as soon as its all over I'll be right back home and everything will be the way it used to be...we'll be fine, savvy?" I don't know how much I believed what I was saying, but it offerred both of us some kind of comfort.

I knew I would miss it all; Pony, the gang... It was safety and I was about to set off into something as far away from safety as you could possibly imagine. I always thought I could stay a kid forever, maybe I still could. I'm an optimist.

The days between signing up and actually leaving were heavy and slow but my god did they disappear in seconds. I'll tell you, the reality barely sunk in until I saw Darry and Pony off at the train station and I realised that it might well be the last time I ever saw them.

"Y-you take care of yourself okay kiddo? Make sure ole Darry don't work too hard." I had to grin a little, offerring as much positivity to the only family I had left. Darry grinned too. But he was close to tears.

"So long, soldier." He murmured, his voice thick and shaky as he raised his hand to his head in salute. I thought that if he uttered another word he'd surely start to cry.

I saluted back to my older brother, pursing my lips together so that I wouldnt break.
"I'll be home before you know it." I smiled, but it wasn't a me smile. It was some kind of sad smile that I'd never known before, I didn't want to get to know it either. In my mind, I could still be a kid forever. Like I said, I'm an optimist.

My name was being yelled in the background, someone was calling for me to get my ass on the train but my feet were stuck.

I didn't want to go.

"Get on the train son!"

"Get on the train!"

"C'mon we're leaving!"

Darry gave me a nod and I nodded back. Then everything abruptly came to focus and I was hopping on that train, squished between other men and boys trying to stick their heads out the window and say a final goodbye.

"Mom and Dad would be proud of you Soda!" Darry yells, holding Pony close to him. I put my hand up to them as the train began to move and move until my brothers were two black dots in the distance.

I didn't know anyone on that train and for once I didn't care to smile in peoples faces and try to make their day. For the first time I was surrounded by high energies but I'd never felt so alone.

A couple moments later I found myself in an arm wrestle with another kid my age and thats the kind of kicks that kept all of us occupied until we reached base. Cards and arm wrestles. Some of the guys were excited to be here, and heck for a moment they had me excited too. "You know, we could all end up being heros!" they'd yell, and all of our eyes would light up at the sound of that.

Heroes... Sure sounded nice.

On the journey to base, I'd made a lot of new friends and I guessed we'd all have to stick together anyway since it was do or die. I'd learnt everybodys life story within five hours and managed to tell them mine too. But, the high of the journey flattened when we were shown our rooms, our ugly bunks, where we'd eat, where we'd shit, where we'd train and essentially our new 'home.'

It wasn't home though. It could never be.

The first night I'd ever slept away from Tulsa was the first night I'd cried my sorry ass to sleep. I missed everything already and I was mad at myself for being such a baby.

I couldn't help it though. Admittedly, I was scared.

When training started, I learnt the meaning of true pain. In every inch of my skin and every fibre of my being, I hurt. Then I learnt true fear on the battlefield when I held a gun and it felt all kinds of wrong. I realised I'd have to kill someone - or I might be the one getting killed.

I learnt true loss when I watched a solider I knew die and was sure that I was changing day by day when the loss a friend provoked no reaction. I watched people go insane and try to get themselves killed because they just couldn't take it much more! Not me though. I was an optimist.

It was like crossing off days on a calender, the way our regiment was losing men. One after the other they were gone. I was hoisting up the dead body of the same guy I'd drank beer with a night ago. Thats just the way it was.

I managed to train myself not to lose face, but I still cried at night, missing home. I wondered what Darry and Ponyboy were doing. Were they worried about me? Was Pony keeping up his grades? What about Sandy? I wondered about her too, if she'd heard the news and thought I was gallant?

I still cried after training, throwing up in a bucket and then having to get right back on it. I didn't smile no more. Not even that sad smile that I didnt want to know back at the train station. I missed that sad smile now. Because it was better than nothing.

Although I and everyone that was still left were slowly becoming desensitized to everything, the one thing that could always humble me into a state of a vulnerable boy was marching into battle. Man, holding that gun still felt wrong even months after the first time I'd done it.

I could never take religion seriously, but you bet your ass I said a little prayer in my mind before every battle. "Please spare me God...I don't want to die."

I guess I'd been lucky to survive a couple months. I was lucky to survive a couple hours after I got shot. Cursing, crying, screaming as someone grabbed me and had me rushed off to the dingy makeshift hospital. "Darry! I want Darry! Help me! H-help me..." I cried, shaking my head and panting as some nurse tried to tend to me. I couldn't help but be dilerious - I was starting to lose my sanity and I knew it. "I-I want to go home..."

They had me drugged and bandaged, then I spent the last few hours of my life writing this up. I knew it'd be my last hours, the nurse told me so. I'm dying, or will die very soon. I'll die before I can ever hug my brothers again or do any of the things a guy my age dreams about.

I'd saved all my friends that'd died diaries and letters because I thought that I'd live till the end of this and be able to give the diaries to their families. But bare in mind, I'm the same fucker that thought I could be a kid forever.

- Soda, the optimist.

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