The Sorrow of War by Bao Ninh Read Free Book Online

Division, the 2nd Division, soldiers from the provincial armed forces, the 320th Mobile Forces, 559th Corps, sometimes women, and every now and again some southern souls, from Saigon." The driver spoke as though it were common knowledge.
    "Meet any old friends?" asked Kien.
    "Sure! Even some from my own village. Guys from my first unit. Once I met a cousin who died way back in sixty-five."
    "Do you speak to them?"
    "Yes, but. . . well, differently. The way you speak in hell.There are no sounds, no words. It's hard to describe. It's like when you're dreaming—you know what I mean."
    "You can't actually do anything to help each other?" asked Kien. "Do you talk about interesting things?"
    "Not very. Just sad and pitiful things, really. Under the ground in the grave human beings aren't the same.You can look at each other, understand each other, but you can't do anything for each other."
    "If we found a way to tell them news of a victory, would they be happier?" Kien asked.
    "Come on! Even if we could, what would be the point? People in hell don't give a damn about wars. They don't
    remember killing. Killing is a career for the living, not the dead."
    "Still, wouldn't peacetime be an ideal moment for the resurrection of all the dead?"
    "What? Peace? Damn it, peace is a tree that thrives only on the blood and bones of fallen comrades. The ones left behind in the Screaming Souls battlegrounds were the most honorable people.Without them there would be no peace," the driver replied.
    "That's a rotten way to look at it.There are so many good people, so many yet to be born, so many survivors now trying to live decent lives. Otherwise it's not been worth it. I mean, what's peace for? Or what's fighting for?" Kien asked.
    "Okay, I'll grant you we have to have hope. But we don't even know if the next generation will get a chance to grow up, or if they do, how they'll grow up. We do know that many good people have been killed. Those of us who survived have all been trying to make something of ourselves, but not succeeding.
    "But look at the chaotic postwar situation in the cities, with their black markets. Life is so frustrating, for all of us. And look at the bodies and the graves of our comrades! The ones who brought the peace. Shameful, my friend, shameful."
    "But isn't peace better than war?"
    The driver seemed astonished. "This kind of peace? In this kind of peace it seems people have unmasked themselves and revealed their true, horrible selves. So much blood, so many lives were sacrificed—for what?"
    "Damn it, what are you trying to say?" Kien asked.
    "I'm not trying to say anything. I'm simply a soldier like you who'll now have to live with broken dreams and with pain. But, my friend, our era is finished. After this hard-won victory fighters like you, Kien, will never be normal again.
    You won't even speak with your normal voice, in the normal way again."
    "You're so damn gloomy.What a doom-laden attitude!"
    "I am Tran Son, a soldier. That's why I'm a bit of a philosopher. You never curse your luck? Never feel elated? What did the dead ones tell you in your dreams last night? Call that normal?" he asked.
    On the way out the Zil truck moves in slowjerky move-ments.The road is bumpy, muddy and potholed. Son stays in first gear, the engine revving loudly as if about to explode. Kien looks out of the window, trying to lighten his mood.
    The rain stops, but the air is dull, the sky lead-grey. Slowly they move away from the Screaming Souls Jungle and the whole forest area itself. Behind them the mountains, the streams, all drop away from view.
    But strangely, Kien now feels another presence, feels someone is watching him. Is the final scene, the unfinished, bloody dream of this morning, about to intrude itself in his mind? Will the pictures unfold against his wishes as he sits staring at the road?
    Kien called to Son over the roar of the engine, asking if he'd be finished with MIA work after this tour of duty.
    "Not sure. There's a lot