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Sanchez floated by, moving soundlessly through the brush. He was at home here, abandoned as a kid by his folks he had found his place in uniform. He was a crazy guy. Sometimes Higgs thought he was a little too crazy. His Sarge strolled up ahead. He‘d hardened from fighting too long. Like most of these guys he was tough as nails. They didn‘t hear it ... whisperâ€" He felt very small â€"very vulnerable. His companions roamed around him, McKellar bowling along like some prehistoric ape. He didn‘t look the slightest bit worried, but when you‘re this close to death for so long, you get used to it. him. As the 39th division crawled through the jungle, it surrounded him. It whispered though the trees, it whispered to him. He gazed at his surroundings; an endless, damp, musty sea of green. The noise of the forest filled his ears, a billion creatures heard but never seen. It resounded from all around â€" a ceaseless laugh. The trees thrust up like mighty fists that blocked out the sun. They pushed him in, strangling i2 There was fear in the air, that was the only way Higgs could describe it. by Mark McVicar Casualty of War CI gi St6 Short WINNERS CIRCLE Chronicle When he came out of basic training he was a man, strong and confident. He remembered marching by the stands as they cheered under the thunder of the band. All these men basking in their glory, eager to fight, eager to die. A big transport plane swept them across the ocean, away from the glory, to where they were boys â€" to the jungle â€" deeper into the fires. They came to a village, it was deserted. The shacks hung in tatters, slowly being consumed by the forest. A few rags hung from the limb of a tree, floating up and down. That was all that was left. He could almost hear the tired ghosts, over the roar of the jungle, of people who lived a simple, harmless life . . . before the war. They decided to make camp there. After surveying the edges of the valley they returned to the village. The Sarge thought it would be safe for the night; he didn‘t ing. Higgs was a rookie, you could tell by looking at him that he didn‘t belong here. He looked unreal in that uniform, he looked boyish . . . and soft. He left his home and his mother in lowa to come to Vietnam, land of excitement, and now he was crawling on the jungle floor, weary from marching. _ _ The division snaked its way down an embankment, as if plunging deeper into the fires. The Waterlioo Chronicle presents the winning entries in our 2nd Annual Short Story Contest mm e "" He stared out into the night, into to the jungle where the light from the fire could not penetrate. The fire was to ward off the animals, the evil yellow slantâ€"eyed aniâ€" mals who slunk through the forests in packs, searching for food. Out there he could hear it whispering. As Higgs lay down on the rough canvas blanket he stared with wonder up at the sky. The lonely stars hovering over the universe. He clung to the hope that they gave him; they reminded him that there was another world outside the jungle. The trees seemed to force him in, swallow him up. The vines cascaded downwards, reachâ€" ing for him, but he held on. As he lay there, the wild drone of the forest slowly rocked him to sleep. f He began to dream, the images drifting at first, then becoming clearer. Music filled his ears, but not the music of the forest, he lifted his head up to realize he was in a As the night closed in they settled around a fire, they played poker for a while, talked about the mission, talked about home. Higgs thought of Ellen, he took an old cracked picture out of his pocket. She was at home waiting for him; it was a lot more than these other guys had. He could see her perfectly, the way she laughed, the way she cried when he had told her he was leaving. hear it . .. whispering WATERLOO CHRONICLE, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER OPEN: MONâ€"THURS 10 â€"6p.m. FRI 10â€" 8 p.m _ SAT 10 â€" 4 p.m OAK ° WHITE WHITE BLACK 30 Manitou Drive, Unit A, Kitchener BELIEV ABL HOME â€" IKLIT FURNITURE Mark was in Grade 12 at Bluevale collegiate when he wrote this story. An athlete, he hopes to write a novel or book of short stories some day. 894â€"4967 room, the gymnasium back at school. Ellen was in his arms. She gazed up at him and a bright smile lit her face. He looked down at her as they moved slowly across the floor He pulled her close. Other couples danced quietly beside him. He felt warm and safe ... He was home Suddenly the doors of the gym burst open and the room was filled with a burst of light that stung his eyes. He pushed Ellen behind him. Out of the whitish glare several shadowy figures flew into the room. Higgs saw the wicked shafts at their sides, a solid image in the fog They whispered to him as they raised their weapons. He heard the first cracks of fying metal, and then the sounds exploded above him. The sounds of war Higgs jerked himself up in the night and it was all around him. God. it clung to him like a morbid cold sweat: It filled his ears and he tasted it like salt in his mouth It was fear. He knew they were there. all around him. hunting hint He felt them like a fog hanging in the night Higgs grabbed his rifle, and the snap of the safet\ rang through the forest. He could no longer hear the animals. it was only silence deep, penetrating silence The rest of the men were up. they sensed it too, crawling towards them The Sarp« motioned him over. They were told to take (Continued on page A15) SECONDARY CLASS REG. ‘128 4 DRAWER CHEST REG.‘112 11, 1991 â€" PAGE As