WAR The Plague to Mankind

By D.C Townsend

These are four separate works that tries to look at war. Two Fictional stories, one true story, and one essay. Many people suffer some die in war. The victims are innocent citizens, some infants, children, and the elderly. Also, soldiers. No one is immune from the consequences of war. All wars have unforeseen consequences. The flags of war

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grovehouse Press Llc
• Release date: May 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957776156

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WAR

The Plague

To Mankind

Copyright © 2022 by D.C. Townsend

No part of this publication may be reproduced,distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

ISBN 978-1-957776-13-2 (Paper Back)

ISBN 978-1-957776-14-9 (Hard Back)

GroveHouse Press LLC

340 S Lemon Ave #3529

Walnut, CA 91789

United States

www.grovehousepress.com

Printed in the United States of America

Contents:

Dieu’s Revenge

Introduction Page 7

Chap 1 Page 9

Chap 2 Page 15

Chap 3 Page 20

Chap 4 Page 32

Chap 5 Page 54

Chap 6 Page 60

The General’s Rewards Page 77

Greg’s Story Page 84

A Look At War Page 89

About the Author Page 129

Dieu’s Revenge | Introduction

Before reading this fictional story, a few thoughts to reflect upon.

In fiction it is up to the reader to judge, the author stimulates thought.

Don’t blame the author if what they say upsets you. Think why?

Our upbringing and society establish our moral ethos.

Might does not make right.

Two wrongs rarely make a right.

Arrogance is seldom rewarded.

Right and wrong are matters of one’s perspective that change with time.

There has never been a just war, although sometimes it is necessary to go to war.

Know therefor the sword is a cursed thing that a wise man uses only if he must. (Li Po)

For whatsoever a man soweth, that shell he also reap. (Galatians 6:7)

Trust is never established with lies. Torture never creates morality.

Hero or villain? Judgment, according to one’s beliefs and loyalties. Robert E Lee or William Tecumseh Sherman, President Lindon Johnson or General Secretary Ho Chi Minh. To over a billion people Chairman Mao Zedong is a revered hero.

In every adversity, there is an opportunity.

All things change in time, in their own way. Nothing is forever.

Challenges often comes from unexpected sources, creating unforeseen results.

The most dangerous creation of any society is the man who has nothing to lose. (James Baldwin)

Benjamin Franklin said, There was never a good war, or a bad peace.

Thomas Jefferson in a letter dated May 13, 1797 to Elbridge Curry wrote, . . . I abhor war and view it as the greatest scourge of mankind . . .

President Dwight D. Eisenhower said, I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen it’s brutality, it’s futility, it’s stupidity.

This a fictional story that looks at the possible unforeseen consequences of war. What if an innocent victim of war was given an opportunity to avenge the trauma given them? What if the victim never saw any remorse or regrets from the perpetrators for their cruel acts? What if the perpetrators were rewarded and continued to commit more cruel acts? What if the cruelty seemed to never end? What is justice? Lady Justice wears a blindfold and does not see the uniform one wears. Her scale weighs all things equally. How much collateral damage is acceptable in war? When do the consequences of war end? Who is responsible for the deaths of the innocent in war?

Dieu’s Revenge

CHAPTER I

It was spring, 1969, Duong Chi Dieu was a ten-year-old girl who lived with her family in Hanoi, North Vietnam.

Dieu was crouched down in a buried cement pipe with a slab of concrete over the end, the bombers were coming. She was in her bomb shelter. This was not new to Dieu; it was something she had done many times before. It was always scary hearing and feeling the bombs shake the ground. Their little neighborhood had been fortunate, not one of the bombs had hit any of the nearby houses. Though her school and church were destroyed. She had walked with her mother doing shopping, seeing many houses and buildings destroyed. She watched people working filling in the bomb holes repairing the road. Dieu had seen bodies lined up waiting to be picked up for burial. Some of her school mates had been killed. Some of their parents had been killed. Many had lost their homes.

Dieu knew that the Americans were evil people. Everyone she knew hated the Americans for what they were doing to the people. She had heard Uncle Ho give a speech where he said the Vietnamese people just wanted their own country with their freedom. The Americans just wanted to rule them with their own rulers, just like the French and Japanese did.

Dieu had worked with her mother, brother, and others to repair the damage done by the American bombs. She had learned a little song singing it with the workers.

America destroys, we rebuild. America destroys again, we rebuild again.

Dieu could hear and feel the bombs exploding, they were coming nearer. Dieu started to play the little bamboo flute that an old lady had given her a few days before. Playing the flute got her mind off being in the cold, dark, and uncomfortable cement pipe she was sealed in as she felt and heard the bombs. The sound of the flute was loud in the cement pipe. It forced her to focus to try to get the notes just right.

Suddenly Dieu felt herself flying into the air.

Dieu was on the ground, she could not move, or hear, but she could see. More bombs fell, things were flying in the air. Dieu’s sisters head landed in front of her. Her sister’s eyes were staring at her not moving. Dieu tried to move she couldn’t. Looking around she believe she seen her brother and other sister lying on the ground, not moving. Dieu’s brother and sisters were in another larger buried cement pipe near her. Their father made them get in the buried pipes, covering them over.

After a long wait someone came checking on Dieu, they soon left, she could not feel their touches or hear what they said. Dieu believed she was dead. There was nothing for her except to watch. Workers came to clear the road of debris. They carried away her brother, sister and her other sister’s head in a cart. As she watched the workers, watching their lips, in her mind she sang the little song with the workers she had learned, America destroys, we rebuild. America destroys again, we rebuild again.

After what seemed a long time Dieu watched as what looked to be her mother, grandmother, and father’s bodies were loaded into a cart. It looked like parts of their bodies were missing. Her mother looked to have no legs. Her father had half of his chest and an arm missing. Her grandmother looked to be broken in half. Dieu knew she could only watch. Next was her turn. When they picked Dieu up a woman looked into Dieu’s eyes. The woman’s lips moved; Dieu could not hear. Dieu was put on a stretcher; two men ran with her on a stretcher.

Dieu awoke on a cot with the right side of her face bandaged, and her right leg and foot in a heavy bandage. Now she could hear and move a little, but moving really hurt. Thirsty she asked for water. A woman brought her water, the lady poured a little water in her mouth. Later Dieu was brought soft food, it was hard for her to eat, a woman spooned food into her mouth. The right side of her face hurt really bad, it hurt to chew and swallow. Most amazing she still had her little flute on the string around her neck. Though it was hard, she started to practice playing her little flute. It gave her something to do, something other than feel sorry for herself. She believed her flute playing was getting good, some of the other patients encouraged her. The patients were men, women and children, even a small baby that was fed with a bottle.

Over the next few days some of her fellow patients died. Dieu tried to play a sad song on her flute as they carried out the dead for burial. It was a sad place and time. Some had lost legs, arms and eyes, some were badly burnt, many died. The patients sang songs to pass the time to avoid the boredom and suffering. Dieu tried to play her flute along with the songs. Some were patriotic, praising the Vietnamese people and Uncle Ho. Other songs were of the evil Americans.

Uncle Ho was their leader, wanting freedom for the people. After the Japanese were expelled Uncle Ho declared Vietnam a free nation. But soon the French wanted to again control the people for their own greed. The Vietnamese people rose up defeating the French. Now the Americans wanted to control Vietnam with their laws and puppet rulers. Now the Americans bombed the Vietnamese people to force the Vietnamese leaders to submit to their control. All the people knew these facts, resisting, wanting their freedom. Uncle Ho inspired his people.

Dieu’s face was unbandaged; the stitches removed; she could feel the scar running from her cheek to her chin. The right corner of her lips did not align over the scar. No one would give her a mirror to look at herself. She knew it was an ugly scar.

Many patients came and went, some died. They often heard and felt more bombs. There was no place to hide. They sang songs as the bombs fell, trying to be brave. Dieu tried to practice with her flute, it gave her something to do. People told her that her flute sounded good. She and a couple of patients worked to put words and her flute music together, they had a few of their own songs. Some of the words of one of their songs were, America tries to kill us, some of us will survive. America drops bombs, Vietnam will survive. Vietnam will be free.

Eventually the heavy bandage on her leg was removed and replaced with a couple of sticks and a heavy piece of cloth. She was given crutches; encouraged to walk. It was painful but she tried rally hard. It was hard to keep from crying. Dieu tried to be strong. After several days trying to walk with her crutches she was able to move around in the aid station with her crutches.

Dieu was told she had to leave; they needed her cot. The aid station was crowded, many laying on the floor. The aid station was a sad place, many suffering and dying. The other patients wished her good fortune, saying that would miss her and the sound of her flute.

Dieu walked using her crutches to her neighborhood, often having to stop and rest. The fresh air felt good, not having to smell the horrible smells in the aid station. Dying people smelt bad. Nothing was left of her house or her neighbors houses, the wood had been savaged for rebuilding and for fire wood.

Then Dieu went to the market, most of the market had