Thursday, August 31, 2006
a poem in your pocket
Carried since 1964
We in Viet Nam
Well here we are in v.c. land.
We came to fight in the heat, rain, and sand
They tell us we must fight and kill
to make the world freer still
The nights are dark and lonely,
especially on patrol.
But, our hearts are full of bravery,
our minds are mean and cold.
We're all men here - some big, some small,
but in this land we all walk tall.
We think of home and our loved ones there
and we know that they really care.
At first this place was deathly hot.
Now the rains have come, with it's jungle rot.
Into our hootches we crawl and kneel-
made from bamboo, wire and scraps we steal.
They're built with heart and imagination.
There is no frivolous exageration.
Our hopes are up, morale is high
Many v.c. will surely die.
When we go out the people say
The Americans are here, night and day.
We are Marines, the best for sure.
Why? espirit de corps!
The others are here, there is no doubt
Each one is needed to win this bout.
We'll be home, sometime, someday -
until then, we'll fight and pray
© rel 1964
a poem in your pocket
Carried since 1964
We in Viet Nam
Well here we are in v.c. land.
We came to fight in the heat, rain, and sand
They tell us we must fight and kill
to make the world freer still
The nights are dark and lonely,
especially on patrol.
But, our hearts are full of bravery,
our minds are mean and cold.
We're all men here - some big, some small,
but in this land we all walk tall.
We think of home and our loved ones there
and we know that they really care.
At first this place was deathly hot.
Now the rains have come, with it's jungle rot.
Into our hootches we crawl and kneel-
made from bamboo, wire and scraps we steal.
They're built with heart and imagination.
There is no frivolous exageration.
Our hopes are up, morale is high
Many v.c. will surely die.
When we go out the people say
The Americans are here, night and day.
We are Marines, the best for sure.
Why? espirit de corps!
The others are here, there is no doubt
Each one is needed to win this bout.
We'll be home, sometime, someday -
until then, we'll fight and pray
© rel 1964
posted by rel at 4:38 AM
9 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
I've never been able to bring myself to watch any of the films about Viet Nam because the little I've seen and read was so appalling - I've never been able to understand how the human race can do such dreadful things to one another. I visited the VietNam Memorial Wall when I was in Washington and, because I was with an American friend who picked out names of people she knew when she was young,it was a very emotional experience. The bronze statue there of three soldiers fom different ethnic backgrounds is one of the best memorials I've ever seen.
I only removed the first post because I made some stupid spelling errors and the subject deserves more care than that.
Wow Rel,
This is awesome.
Dawn
It's wonderful that you've kept that impassioned poem - and even more wonderful that you lived to tell your story. Thank you.
This is such a touching poem, full of bravery and hope and truth. thank you for sharing it. and thank you for the kind comments you've been leaving me x
It doesn't surprise me at all that you wrote this way back then...you have such a passion for words and the way you write comes from deep within. It's a beautiful poem and reading it, I could feel in my heart the pain and loneliness you were going through at the time..as were your fellow comrades. It's men like you we owe our lives to...for that, I thank you! Big Hugs!!
Were you looking for me..........
Angel Feathers Tickle Me
My sister was very brave....
She fought till the end....
My site is for her...
Linda Angel
This is very good! Enjoying reading it....
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