Frank T.'s Questionnaire

"Back home, it’s a different world. I come from a small town—just a dot on the map, really. The kind of place where everybody knows everybody else, and you can’t go to the grocery store without running into half the town. It’s quiet, peaceful, with rolling fields and the occasional old barn. The biggest excitement we had was the annual county fair, where everyone gathers for rides, games, and homemade pies.

There’s something about the simplicity of it all that I miss here. The fresh air, the open skies, and the way the stars shine so bright without the city lights. I remember the long summer evenings, sitting on the porch with my family, just talking or listening to the crickets. 

"Back home, I made ends meet through odd jobs. Some days I was fixing cars, other times I was wrangling stray animals. It didn’t matter much to me—if someone needed help with something, I’d figure it out and get it done. I liked the variety; it kept life interesting and gave me a chance to learn new skills.

My goal was to save up enough to buy some land and settle down. I dreamed of having a place where I could build a home and maybe start a small farm. It was a simple dream, but it felt right. I wanted a stable, peaceful life where I could put down roots and be part of something permanent.

Now...I make my money killing people. I'm a soldier in Vietnam stopping communism from spreading or whatever they want to say to justify mass murder. I make my money off the blood of dead children and when I get back home I'll looked at like the monster I am...But at least I'll get a car out of it or something. 

I want out of this hole. I want to leave this country. I want a real meal, steak and potatoes. I want dry socks and clothes that don't itch. I want a shower and a shave. The only thing keeping me going is these dreams I've been having. I can get out of this hole. I WILL get out of this hole. 
 
I wonder if I’m worthy of a new beginning, of joy and peace. There’s a part of me that feels like I’ve used up my share of luck 
I think about reconnecting with family and friends. I want to see their faces, hear their voices, and just be in their presence. I’ve missed out on so much, and it feels like there’s a lot of catching up to do. I’m looking forward to that. 

I'll kill everyone in this country if I have to.

One day, you’re living your life; the next, you’re caught up in a whirlwind of uniforms, orders, and a fate you didn’t choose. I remember the day they told us. It wasn’t just about going to war—it was about leaving everything familiar behind and stepping into a world uncertain. 

When it came down to it, pulling the trigger wasn’t just about the physical act. It was like a storm breaking loose inside me—fear, guilt, adrenaline, and confusion all mixed. The moment I saw the man fall, it was as if time stopped. There’s this surreal stillness that follows. You’re left alone with your thoughts, and you can’t escape the gravity of what you’ve done.

What came after—the long nights, the haunting questions, and the burden of knowing that you’ve taken someone’s life. It’s a weight that doesn’t lift easily. You carry it with you, and it changes you in ways you can’t always put into words.

Sergeant William Boyd Jones 

  Nice guy, he and I served in the same unit. He was the only guy who was good at poker, I can't bluff for shit. We'd talk a lot about things back home. He was a black guy and while in the army the Civil Rights Act was signed. Segregation was illegal back in the States, which was somewhat funny to me seeing as the army overseas wasn't segregated even when it was legal. Guess as long as the hands could hold a gun didn't matter the skin tone. William always kept up with current politics and would talk to me about them, I remember telling him I didn't really pay attention to that stuff and didn't know anything about politics. He told me "It's because you've never had to" a pretty simple statement but an accurate one. After that point, I'd start listening to the radio and reading a bit more about it. He opened the door for me to learn more about the country I lived in and what I thought it was. I have him to thank for opening my eyes to what this war has turned into and my place in it. Unfortunately, he's not around for me to thank him, he won't be going back home. He was the last American I was with before the Vietcong got me. We got jumped on together, I don't know how he died but I heard him scream; later the enemy threw his pocket knife at me, I think they wanted to taunt me, tell me "We got him."

Mrs Cabot 
 
 I remember an old lady who lived in my town, I had done some odd jobs for her like anyone else but she was a strange lady. She'd tell me stories about monsters, magic, fate you name it. I thought she was some old recluse whose family left her to rot with dementia, I mean I still do, but with all that's been happening so far I can't help but think how much of that stuff is real. I can't help but think if that lady really is crazy or if she knows firsthand the horrors of the world and just wanted to warn me.

I dunno and probably won't find out....I wonder who's helping her out while I'm gone? 


Lisa 

 I was going to marry her one day.

I thought joining the Military would help me forget, give me other things to worry about.

That was fucking stupid of me. 

I had a normal enough childhood, in a small midwest town, and everyone knew each other. My mom and dad did a lot to raise me right get me involved with the community and doing well enough in school. 

My father was a farmer, and My mom was a standard housewife. I can't complain about them, but they feel so far away now. After everything I've been through, they'll somehow end up as different people than I remember them being.

I attended school, had average grades, and knew everyone in my school. It being a small town and there are not a whole lot of new faces. That's where I met her..the woman I'd marry.

I wish I had more to say but I never thought I'd be dealing with the things I'm dealing with coming from my background. I figured I would live and die in my town preferably of old age with a family. 

Her name was Lisa 

We met in school and were together for years. I never found out what happened to her. To us  

One day I came back from a job, fixing some guy's AC or something, and she was gone. 

At first, I thought she abandoned me just up and left like some kinda of drama. But there were some signs of....it not being that. The whole thing stunk of something I just couldn't tell what. No one believed me either. They all just thought I was some kind of abuser behind closed doors or something I couldn't shake the look they had in their eyes. 

She was acting strange before I left, She didn't want me to go. I wish I noticed then like I would have now. She was afraid of someone, or someTHING. I wish I stayed with her and faced whatever it was.