Vietnam, 1968, dawn, perimeter guard...

"What do you think about being in Vietnam?" I said.

Ron laughed. The horizon was cherry red and we could hardly see each other.

"We're just here for business."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that this war is just a business deal. The big boys got together and said, 'Look, the economy isn't doing so hot and we got all these extra people with no jobs, just causing trouble, so why don't we have us a little drawn-out war. That way we can get rid of the excess population and pump up the economy."

I smiled. "C'mon, you're telling me this whole war was cooked up to boost the economy?"

"That's right."

"The American, maybe, but not the Vietnamese. I can't see them sacrificing thousands of their people."

"Life is cheap over here."

"I don't believe it."

"Why do you think there's so much trash in the company?"

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Carl. A third of the men on this hill are black trash and the rest are all white trash."

I laughed. I had never thought of myself as 'white trash.'

Ron spoke like a teacher giving a lecture. "You see, the rich man in America struck a deal with the Communist bosses in Asia. The Asians have a population way in excess of what their lands can support, and America has an excess of trash."

Ron sighed. "The only reason the war's lasted as long as it has is because it's all bullshit and everybody knows it. And that's why the troops ain't taking no chances. Why get yourself killed when them senators' and businessmen's sons are laying up at some Ivy League college studying poli-sci or history of art or something like that, and gettin' all the girls they want!"