I have this British almost a year. My Army, England died in January 1972.0: 00/3: 12 Southern navigators ratged that and fiercely. Was each other land, then in the sky, the enemy aircraft shot 20 cups down. Having just woke up, I was bike up, I was bike strongly, but I couldn't understand why it was a hiss, then "rumored", the rock was blind, looking at him, I came back
. He is no longer available. His eyes opened, looking at me. I stroked my eyes, pulling the peg that I saw always on his chest, the only asset of the soldier
Placing him down, I rushed up like a mad guy. The first time I rushed to alone, that day didn't know how many enemies I shot. I don't remember what happened after the victory. Just knowing when the prize in the prisoner passed, a prisoner with a faint face was crazy. I gave it a bullet in the middle of my face (this type of bullet shot won't explode the warhead), and immediately received a warning. I have a raw, the soldier is less than 18 years old, hugging the gun. Dark didn't eat rice, I went down to the tunnel. Like uneasiness, I hugged your pen, I didn't know why he was very much, if I was alive I would bring to my wife. When he enlisted his wife for a month, he had not had a child yet. Lying with the tunnel or hugging me to sleep, I'll miss my wife very much
The arms hugged me gave no longer, his eyes widened to want to tell me. A slice of the political politicly lined up with me: I know what this morning I think but discipline the battlefield, I sympathize for you. I turned to hug me, crying together. Do not sleep, see as he looked at me, told him. I silently promised you many things. The next day I asked the youth sister Volunteer where he rested. Without compressing incense, I hugged my grave crying. I remember where he lied in hopes of bringing him back to his family. Two months later where the American Bomb was wild. After liberation, I didn't dare to visit your family. I know what to say: that the grave he has been plowing. Thinking about that I couldn't stand it. In 1981, then built Truong Son cemetery. I returned to my hometown. Land land, single roof brush hill hill. On the worship board looked at the picture, I saw my little boy. I can't cry. His eyes gently watched me like satisfied. Bao experience British battlefield only told me, sleeping together, in the battle always with me to protect, the cigarette shared me to me a lot. I tried to hold my heart back and put the pen for her. Now I know that I gave you a while. Seeing the pen she rushed into hugging me and sobbed, his parents also hugged us. Neighbors came surrounded, hushing with tears. That night was 5 silver rice trays, picked me up to pick me up. His parents called me a sweet child, and I called me him. Then I two my father and son talked nearly night. Inside, Mother's probably and she didn't sleep. He sacrificed, she was crazy. Then I recovered, she firmly stayed at her mother. Her eyes were deep, dark circles. I feel too much. Farewell to my parents and she went to the hill, I didn't dare to go back. I knew three people still stood in, and crying. I also cried, I remember his eyes when I lost, it was not as gentle in the picture, it opened as if she wanted to say. I also have something to say without speaking. I don't want you to do Hon Khong. You too, don't you give me the village story . Dịch vụ:
Thiết kế website,
quảng cáo google,
đăng ký website bộ công thương uy tín
