Published in Celebration: An Anthology Zine Remembering a decade of S&H, 1985. Scanned/first proof-read by Cyanne final proofing by SHaron.

What War Still Wages

... she was only a kid, I couldn't shoot, she was only a kid!

Damn, Hutch, what are you doing makin' a living as a cop?

Just like Nam when you almost got blown away. Remember?

Same as now, that kid you couldn't shoot was wired to blow the whole camp. God, Hutch, when I plugged him you ran over to try and help, then cried like a baby when he died in your arms.

We had a hell of a fight that night, remember?

I called you stupid, a bleeding-heart liberal, and you knocked me across the tent. We could barely stand the sight of each other for how long after that? Three, four weeks? Then you blew away that pregnant gook and I thought you'd flipped out, 'til I saw the grenade. You were shaking all over when I put my arms around ya. I remember how green you got when Turner clapped ya on the back and said, 'You're learning!' And you puked all over both our boots. It wasn't that you'd learned a thing, was it? Then or now? You said I was the closest to her and would have been blown to bits, and that was why. Aw, babe, why can't you shoot when there's nobody to protect but you?

She was only a kid.

Hutch, don't you know that ghetto chick hasn't been a kid in a hundred years?

I gotta teach ya better, 'cause we're still in a war zone.

Gonna have to get ya tough or were both gonna buy it.

The Ambulance rocked to a stop and a pale-faced, dark-haired man scrambled to keep up with the paramedics as the gurney was rushed inside, leaving him to wait.