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I remember the day.. 1960, in the heart of the Vietnam war, Cambodia fields, they called them Rice field, we called them Soul Farms. My squad and I were sneaking up on a nearby village when we suddenly heard a low bass gunsho..t.or what we thought was just a low gunshot, It turns out it wasn't a gunshot. It was a mortar barrage that endlessly fired over and over again on the village, rick, and John got obliterated by the mortar shell bombardment. Why on god's earth our scout did not report that? We'll never know, sadly I never got to ask him. I could only assume he was killed like the rest. It was just me and Johnson left as we were sprinting to our chopper not far from the village. Johnson got hit by a sniper from the back, shattering his spinal cord -instantly he collapsed. Dead. I was still sprinting and hadn't noticed Johnson got shot, was a fool screaming to him the whole sprint to the chopper "♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ JAY WHERE THE ♥♥♥♥ ARE THEY", followed by a blind scream filled with rage. I made it to the chopper, and my get-a-way started flying away "WAIT FOR JOHNSON, HE'S THE ONLY ONE LEFT" I screamed over the propeller blades in the ♥♥♥♥♥♥ worn MX-2088's they had. "WE CAN'T WAIT WE NEED TO MOVE NOW!!" Screamed the pilot. We started flying away, as we were flying; I noticed Johnson... laying on the floor from a distance. He was lying there, cold, In the wet mud mixed with his blood... in that moment it hit me...he was never following me, that cracking and wet thump I heard as we started running...was him, I didn't wanna believe it as we ran; as I ran, probably why I never looked back...

Suddenly the pilot got shot with one lucky stray bullet or w hat I assumed was one, no way a ♥♥♥♥♥♥ could hit that shot, or maybe they could, they were certainly handing our ass's to us. We started losing altitude, so I jumped in the seat and managed to level us out. It was too late though, we smacked the floor with the force of a tank, moments after I managed to level it, I guess the downforce was too aggressive at the point from the inertia, the blades bent and hit the ground. I was launched out of the front window, our helicopter broke to pieces, spinning around in circles on the floor sideways, the blades ripping apart rapidly like almost cloth, but I figured from the force anything would look like that. Wasn't til later I found out the blades were made of a specially woven carbon fabric mixture with metal to increase flexibility in moments where it was required without allowing critical damage or snapping... regardless, the ♥♥♥♥ started shooting shrapnel in every direction at the speed it was going.. dunno if it was from the blades or the hull, Ever since that moment. I've never been able to forget it. That's why I live my life as a Hobo for now on, Peaceful. Friendly. You can call me Steve.