These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be
Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arm
Through these fields of destruction
Baptism of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms
There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones
Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die
But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms
THE WALL OF HONOR
by Roqer Heard, USMC '66-'70
Upon this honored wall of stone
You're together again and not alone
Together you laughed, together you cried
Together you fought, together you died
Together you stand in history
Upon this wall for all to see
Each name evokes a young man's face,
A warrior that stood to take his place
To fight and die for liberty
So others could live a life that's free
If there's a place where Heroes stand
Surely you've gone to join their band
You've left the horrors of war behind
To cross death's bridge and hopefully find
The peace denied you in this life
Of endless wars and constant strife
Together you walk with head held high
No storm clouds gather to darken your sky
The Black Man, Red Man, Brown, and White
Will walk as one, no more to fight
You're not forgotten and will never be
This stone bears witness for all to see
Each one of you made the sacrifice
And paid with life, the ultimate price
Each one who died left a few of us here
To show the world with a fallen tear
We'll never forget and will always stand true
To the memory of each one of you
As long as there's life within my breast
I'll take my place and stand with the rest
And when it's my time to leave this land
I hope you'll welcome me to your Heroes' band.
A NAM
VET
When
the Lord was creating Vietnam veterans, he was
into His 6th day of overtime when an angel appeared.
"You're certainly doing a lot of fiddling around on
this one."
And God said,
"Have you seen the specs on this order?
A Nam vet has to be able to run 5 miles through the
bush with a full pack on, endure with barely any sleep
for days, enter tunnels his higher ups wouldn't
consider doing, and keep his weapons clean and operable.
He has to be able to sit in his hole all night during
an attack, hold his buddies as they die, walk point in
unfamiliar territory known to be VC infested, and
somehow keep his senses alert for danger. He has to be
in top physical condition, existing on c-rats and very
little rest. And he has to have 6 pairs of hands."
The angel shook
his head slowly and said,
"6 pair of hands .... no way."
"It's not the
hands that are causing me problems ...
it's the 3 pair of eyes a Nam vet has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
The Lord
nodded. "One pair that sees through elephant
grass, another pair here in the side of his head for
his buddies, another pair here in front that can look
reassuringly at his bleeding, fellow soldier and say,
"You'll make it....." when he knows he won't.
"Lord, rest, and
work on this tomorrow." "I can't,"
said the Lord. "I already have a model that can carry
a wounded soldier 1,000 yards during a firefight, calm
the fears of the latest FNG, and feed a family of 4 on
a grunt's paycheck.
" The angel
walked around the model and said, "Can it think?"
"You bet," said
the Lord. "It can quote much of the UCMJ, recite all his
general
orders, and engage in a search and destroy mission in
less time than it takes for his fellow Americans back
home to discuss the morality of the War, and still keep
his sense of humor." "This Nam vet also has a phenomenal
personal control. He can deal with ambushes from hell,
comfort a fallen soldier's family, and then read in his
hometown paper how Nam vets are baby killers, psychos,
addicts, killers of innocent civilians." The Lord gazed
into the future and said, "He will also endure being
vilified and spit on when he returns home, rejected
and crucified by the very ones he fought for."
Finally, the
angel slowly ran his finger across the
vet's cheek, and said, "There's a leak ... I told you
that you were trying to put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," said the Lord. "That's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.
"It's for
bottled up emotions, for holding fallen soldiers as
they die, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth
called the American flag, for the terror of living with
PTSD for decades after the war, alone with it's demons,
with no one to care or help."
"You're a
genius," said the angel, casting a gaze at the
tear.
The Lord looked
very sombre, as if seeing down
eternity's distant shores..."
