Monochrome

And I guess you could have called it, a Larry Burrows kind of day, with its grey-white, soft light, grainy Tri-X sky while the V.C. and the grunts, continued hard at play; and some were dead in black and white, others wounded in a screaming mid-tone way; but you couldn’t see the blood, no, it always printed black; but bones, bones were always white, you had to burn them in; in a grey scale kind of way; and the zoned exposure, Ansel Adams mountains often slipped the day; ( in a sort of yellow-filtered way ) while my Leica and my Nikons,I quietly stowed away.