Shit Feild

I know Kiowa's death is my fault. I wish it wasn't, but I'm not going to hide my guilt. It was direct orders, but I should've followed my gut feeling. It was raining, hard, creating mud holes so deep the water was up to our knees. How do you tell some one's father that it's your fault their son is dead? Our platoon was waiting to ambush the gooks, until we were attacked. All we could do was slide into the shit and wait. Kiowa was swallowed by the field, all that was left of him was a boot. He drowned and it was my fault. Twice now, some one's cause of death was on me. How does a person live with that?