The Things They Carried Portfolio

Am Literature Tarriq Hansrajh

06/07/05 4th

Entry #1:

In my pockets:

Cell phone - 5oz

Keys - 2oz

Wallet - 3oz

In my backpack:

Spanish book - 5lbs

Trig book - 9lbs

4 1 inch binders - 12lbs

USHAP notebook - 1lb

Other misc. items - 1.5lbs

Total Weight: 29lbs 10oz

This estimate does not surprise me at all because when I think about all the work that we have to do I remember all the textbooks that we have to carry around. In addition sometimes I come home with my back aching, but that's usually only when I carry my USHAP notebook with me as well

Am Literature Tarriq Hansrajh

06/07/05 4th

Entry #2:

"Rat" Kiley was born Bob Kiley on April 7 1939 in Albany, New York to Marie and Charlie Kiley. At age 11 Bob was given the nickname "Rat" by one of his friends when they were walking home from school one day when apparently Bob fell into a large open dumpster and when he emerged he had a few strings of spaghetti sticking out of the back of his pants. The nickname stuck with him all the way to his adulthood. Rat graduated from Creekside High School in 1957. He did not want to attend college right away but wanted to work in one of the factories in his home town to earn some money to pay for college. Even then his co-workers called him "Rat". Two years later he had managed to save ten thousand dollar to put toward his college tuition but unfortunately he was drafted just like the rest of the men his age who were not attending college. When he was in Vietnam Rat encountered many terrible situations and was faced with severe heart ache when his best friend Curt Lemon is killed by a landmine. Rat was devastated by this terrible event and felt an extreme sense of loneliness especially when he wrote a letter to Curt's sister and she never responded. Rat fought through the rest of the war seeing too many tragedies that are too horrible to mention here and when he returned to his family in 1973, two years before the war ended they found his behavior very strange. They found that he was not the same person that he was before and eventually the found that he had gone completely insane. Rat would mumble things to himself and would scream as if he saw his friend Curt being killed right in front of him. One night Rat apparently got up out of his bed and walked down to the basement of his house. There in his basement he climbed into his large freezer and closed the door trapping himself in with no way out. He died at the age of 34 in 1973.

Am Literature Tarriq Hansrajh

06/07/05 4th

Entry #4:

Dear Family,

I have not written in a while because my mind has been preoccupied with many things and for this I apologize. I must say in my own defense that it has been terrible things that have been keeping me from writing. Well, first of all I am fine, obviously, but by the time you get this letter that might have changed. This place is a demon that haunts me all the time. No matter what I do I can't help but think about the war and what's happening around me. There is one good memory that I have of this place; this is such a dark and terrible place. Vietnam is like a black hole; it sucks in all life and destroys it without emotion. It cares nothing for the individual and what life has or had in store for him. No, this place kills without discretion. Every step you take could very well be your last. Curt knows too well about that. He was standing right in front of me and then just like that his body was torn to shreds. Yes, Vietnam is an evil place, so deceptive and sly, it hides untold danger beneath its blackened soil. All we were doing was playing with smoke grenades and then the mine tripped and Curt was gone. As he went down to the ground there was a shaft of light on his face. Tim said it was like a spot light signaling that it was his time to die. Tim could somehow see a beauty in his death, and that I could not understand. But now I feel horribly empty inside, there is a hole in my chest, not only from the loss of Curt but from what I did to that baby water buffalo. But I deserved it. It probably brought the mine with his f**king gook owner. Please write back to me soon. I wrote to Curt's sister to tell her what had happened but she hasn't written me back yet. So please write to me soon.

Love,

Rat

Am Literature Tarriq Hansrajh

06/07/05 4th

Entry #5:

It was just around sundown when Lt. Cross told us that we would be stopping for the night. We had stopped just at the entrance of thick dense forest just where the tree line hit the open field. The sun was just fading behind the mountain as the last lines of light shot through the trees and onto our campsite. Kiowa and Rat were digging their trenches next to each other.

"What a f***ed up war this is eh Kiowa," said Rat.

"Yes Rat this is a horrific war, men should not have to endure the tragedies that we have endured here."

"I mean this is something that we have nothing to do with. I sure as hell didn't want to drag my ass half way across the damn earth to fight some f**king war that doesn't affect me," replied Rat.

"It's like my uncle said, 'the old men cause the war and the young men fight it', and I agree with him whole heartedly," said Kiowa.

"And it's the young men that die, young men, good young men like Curt. Dammed war taking the lives young men, with the help of those f**king gooks out there I'm surprised that we're not all dead already."

"Well