Legend of the Boots in the Night Time

Thump, thump, thump.

Thats the sound the boots made as they marched up toward the foggy moon in the dead of the
night. While the enemy slept, the boots trudged on, carrying men forward as if they were nothing
but a shadow. All was silent apart from the calls of the jungle, and the thump, thump, thumping
of those boots.
Legend has it that some of those boots didnt carry any men at all. The bloody boots of the
deceased were exposed to some gnarly chemicals; Orange, White, and Blue werent just colors
in Vietnam.
I remember my first encounter with the unmanned boots. Rodney, Mike, is that you? I
whispered into the darkness. I could hear the thump, thump, thumping right behind me, a lot
closer to me than most men would care to get to another.
Hey, you better not be tryin to pull one over on me. But there was no reply, just the
unmistakable thump, thump, thumping of those boots.
I reached behind hurriedly, fumbling all around, almost tripping over what I presume was a root.
You alright Jimmy? a voice calls out in front of me.
Yeah, Im okay.
But I wasnt okay, not with the phantom thump, thump, thumping nippin at my heels.
After that long night the sun finally peaked out over the horizon. I turned to see the source of the
thump, thump, thumping, but I realized that I was at the end of the line the entire night. There
was no man behind me, only footprints in the mud, abruptly stopping where I first looked back
into the sunlight.
But I knew as soon as darkness fell, the thump, thump, thumping would return. After a while, it
became almost an eery comfort to my loneliness.
It was last night a new recruit, Roger was his name, was at the back of the line for the first time.
Jimmy, Jimmy! You there Jimmy? he called out. He then let out a forced breath, and Im sure
that if I could have seen anything, I would have witnessed a look of rabid bewilderment in his
eyes.
He was hearing the thump, thump, thumping of those boots.