Born on the Fourth of July by Ron Kovic

was laughing now. “I was coaching with his dad and it was Eddie’s birthday. A lot of you guys got messed up over there.” He was still talking very fast.
    â€œRemember Clasternack? You heard of Clasternack, didn’t you? He got killed. They got a street over in the park named after him.” He paused for a long time. “Yeah … he got killed. He was the first of you kids to get it. And there were others too,” said the commander. “That little guy, what was his name? Yeah I got it … Johnny Heanon … little Johnny Heanon … he used to play in the Little League with you guys.”
    He remembered Johnny Heanon.
    â€œHe tripped a land mine or something and died on the hospital ship during the operation. I see his folks every once in a while. They live down by the old high school. Fine kid,” said the commander.
    â€œHe used to deliver my paper,” said the heavy guy.
    â€œThere was the Peters family too … both brothers, …” said the commander again, pausing for a long time. “Both of them got killed in the same week. And Alan Grady.… Did you know Alan Grady? He used to go to the boy scouts when you kids was growing up.”
    The boy in the back seat nodded. He knew Alan Grady too.
    â€œHe drowned,” said the commander.
    â€œFunny thing,” said the heavy guy. “I mean, terrible way to go. He was on R and R or something and he drowned one afternoon when he was swimming.”
    â€œAnd Billy Morris,” said the commander, “he used to get in all sorts of trouble down at the high school. He got killed too. There was a land mine or something and he got hit in the head with a tree. Isn’t that crazy?” The commander was laughing almost hysterically now.
    â€œHe goes all the way over there and gets killed by a fucking tree.”
    â€œWe’ve lost a lot of good boys,” the heavy guy said. “We’ve been hit pretty bad. The whole town’s changed.”
    â€œAnd it’s been goin’ on a long time.” The commander was very angry now. “If those bastards in Washington would stop fiddlefucking around and drop a couple of big ones in the right places, we could get that whole thing over with next week. We could win that goddamn thing and get all our kids out of there.”
    When they got to Eddie Dugan’s house, both of the men got out, leaving him in the back seat, and ran up to Eddie’s doorstep. A few minutes passed, then Eddie came out the front door rocking back and forth across the lawn like a clown on his crutches until he had worked himself to the car door.
    â€œI can do it,” Eddie said.
    â€œSure,” said the tall commander, smiling.
    They watched as Eddie stretched leaning on his crutches, then swung into the car seat.
    â€œNot bad,” said the commander.
    The commander and the heavy guy jumped back into the car and the boy could feel the warm spring air blowing on his face as they moved down Eddie’s block. The leaves on the trees had blossomed full. They glistened in the sun, covering the streets in patches of morning shadow.
    â€œYou’re not going to believe this,” Eddie said to him, looking down at his legs. “I got hit by our own mortars.” He was almost laughing now. “It was on a night patrol.… And you?” he asked.
    â€œI got paralyzed from the chest down. I can’t move or feel anything.” He showed Eddie with his hand how far up he could not feel and then showed him the bag on the side of his leg. Usually he didn’t like telling people how bad he had been hurt, but for some reason it was different with Eddie.
    Eddie looked at the bag and shook his head, saying nothing.
    â€œLet me see your new legs,” he said to Eddie.
    Eddie pulled up his trousers, showing his new plastic legs. “You see,” he said, tapping them with his knuckles. He was very sarcastic. “As good as