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Connection! With streetlight first, then road. Hard earth. Spilled blood. His world exploded. Landmine? He knew he was alive. Pain!! Elfy first met her, in Nha Trang. Seven bones shattered. Who said “amputate”? He could barely see through tears, sweat and fear. Thrown from rented 2-stroke. Flesh flayed. Vietnam demands sacrifice. Rice farmers were first-aiders. Firm hands soft faces. Calm concern. Cone hats. Youngsters in baseball caps were curious, keen for fuss. Only their parents had lived through death. A lady older than Buddha bent low, back like Ak-47-iron from eternity tending paddies, gently wiped his brow. He said nothing. Couldn’t. Her words were nonsense, but he understood her compassion. Millions, are KIA here. How far was home? Our cliches had been brighter. Bustling kitchens sweating garlic and lemongrass. Fast talk in fish-sauced alleys, trading smokes for unknowable stories. We learned rice wine, the local, fast. ‘Space-cadet’ Tom loosed his tether, disappeared. Another naive foreigner, lost to folly in Saigon. He landed like a mortar, just as we resolved to leave, another soldier behind, not about to miss our airlift home. He met a girl, who knows where. H. kissed a transgender lady, first night in Bangkok. She shone in KhaoSan neon. We laughed, gently. He stormed into his darkness, spitting, swearing, scraping his tongue. Smashed glass. Must’ve cleansed more than the kiss, that night. Told us he was gay, weeks later. We lynched him, for having hurt himself so much before telling us sooner. “What goes on tour..” is too painfully kept. PTSD. Some truths don’t fit back into broken bottles. I found true love, twice. Searched for myself in over-counter distractions, drank to the freedom of a thousand different me's. My waitress. A smile over Angel dumplings, crystal delicacy. Drank coffee. Picked flowers. She met me uproad, lest peers think; 'prostitute'. I wrote her, 3 times. Her twice. Incense burns out. Locals ourselves again. Same same but different. We’d taken from ‘Nam, and she from us. Destinies are met here, too many in blood. Nothing's new under SE Asian skies. Her cliches burn; cycle like wearily setting-sun, soaking scorched lands seeped in Napalm and Nirvana. Ancient witness, she's seen it all before. Elfy’s was Grim - blood, surgery and screams. Nha Trang ‘hospital’ is still at war. He returned. Home in one battle-worn piece. Survival pre-paid to his travel insurer in cash; better than with limb or life to the bonesaw or Reaper.