letter, 10

I swear that we were like an orchestra... i was trained as " light weapons" infantry... and i swear there were times  plyaing thise things like a great musician .. my instraments were  deadly ..  slam  in the ammo...
clack  it  shut ... wham...!! .. it jumps  in my  hands...  i hold it very tightly ... pull  the trigger ...  f... mayhem... i throw one  gun  down  and grab  another ...  i can  shoot anything .. the  bullets are flying and i,m playing  a symphony .... but  only one weapon i never  discard ... my browning ...  i shoot that  fucker to save my life ...  i remember  being  in a  huddle of death with 2 or 3  other guys and as we are  whispering i,m  slamming  home  shotgun shells into my browning ... no body dies until my browning stops speaking!!.. it,s a five shoot magazine .. i got 20 more  in my bag ... BAM!!!!... BAM!!... run ... BAM!!...

It was crazy because most of the time  we could  never fight the enemy ... we had to hit  and run... but that sawed-off browning twelve guage  automatic... it has perfect... i remember   the  dirty  hands... my hands .... mud and blood and dirt.. i remember looking  in the  huddle and seeing  all dirty hands... and i remember flinching  my shoulder and whipping my  browning down and began to load it ...  from then on it was undersood we would fight ...
We fight ....