It is referring to the dead and wounded, and also the overall physical envir- onment we experienced on the Hill.  But mostly, I was trying to express how the "total" experience there came to be such a profound part me. 

My, 'our' once virgin minds/souls now are a permanent home to images and visions of countless events, emotions and traumas.  I see  precious  innocent minds  of youthful warriors  who were thrust  into premature manhood who could  not possibly  begin to comprehend all  that was happening  within us. The  acceptance of our  experience had to  sink  in slowly over  the years  as
they became a part of us. 

For  me,  of most lasting  images were  the injured and dead  Marines  being carried  to waiting choppers.   In my poem I  do refer to  the first time I saw two guys struggling to carry their buddy.  It took me awhile that day to first notice and then accept the fact that their buddy was dead. I kept telling my- self  that no,  he must have  been alive,  but his body  was too perfectly  still the entire time.

Gray turning  to gray  was both a reference to  the weather  conditions which seemed  to be  foggy so often.   I also was  referring to  the many times  that smoke was laid down during the supergaggles.Also, and mostly gray turn- ing to gray was my was of expressing  the seemingly endlessness to our  time there.  It was so very difficult to not feel overwhelmed by it all.   It did seem that all was that was left was  the night itself.   There were many times that I really felt that we would never be leaving there.   In fact, when it was time to leave I  was somewhat reluctant to go.  Ironically,  if given a choice  I would probably  have stayed.   I think I had  become a  prisoner of  my own  fears. Fearful of what  I was experiencing and yet feelings of security for  what had grown to become familiar to me.

John A. Ortiz