Two Koreans lay dead in the center of town. One had his brains scattered across the road about three feet from his body. The other looked as though he was taking a nap; the sun shone on a youthful face.
We were in a little village leading to a bridge over the Nakdong River. The day was very hot. On the other side of the bridge were the rest of the dead. Things had gone well for our platoon with only a few minor injuries and we had kept the North Koreans from advancing.
The GIs crouched low to the bodies to snap souvenir photos of the deceased. An elderly woman from the village quietly sobbed on the edge of the roadside ditch opposite the bodies. I felt ashamed that we were treating the remains like hunters standing before their big game kill.
We basked in success of the day, but in a few weeks we wouldn't be so lucky. Most of the GIs would soon be dead, but today, for us, it was going well.
Originally posted on the Axiom Report as "Henry's Life: A Good Day" on 3/4/2008.