Colin F. Jones


The rains that came every day at a certain time were Monsoon rains. I recall they came every day at a particular time in the morning for many weeks, then gradually moved through the day until it simply did not stop. We all view things differently. My experience deploying by chopper in the rain, which we did many, many times, was pretty hectic, though flying through it was an adventure.

No, I did not say there was a photo; I meant if there were one, it would not show what you could feel. There are many photos of Vietnam with comments on the beauty they show, and the old saying that a photo describes more than words is really quite untrue, since none of them put you at the scene.

The incredible humidity, the stink, the wet and the mud, the mosquitoes, the dust and the insects, reptiles and rats, not to mention the constant hard work, digging ever digging, patrolling, piquet’s, straining to see on pitch black nights saturated by the never ceasing rain. But we just got on with it, as soldiers do.

A response to the poem, “Afternoon Rains” – ©Copyright April 4, 2007 by Nancy L. Meek