SOLDIER

I was that which others cared not to be. I went where others feared to go and did what others failed to do. I asked nothing from those who gave nothing. I reluctantly, accepted the thought of eternal loneliness-should I fail. I have seen the face of terror, felt the chill of fear, warmed to the touch of love. I have hoped, pained, cried. But, foremost, lived in times others would say best forgotten. At the very least, in later days, I will be able to say with greatest pride, That I was indeed, a Soldier!

By: George L. Skypeck 173rd.Airborne Brigade at Dak To

          The often dreamed of and long awaited day had finally arrived.  I had overcome the odds and made it back to "the States" from the Delta of Viet Nam. Tears flowed freely from the eyes of many a strong soldier that day, man and woman...for we had indeed lived to see home again. This was the day that I sat alone in the San Francisco International Airport reflecting on how very much "alone" this war had been for us.  We left our homes alone, were sent to Viet Nam alone, often died alone, and then were sent home alone.  This too, was the day that I nervously sat alone in my Army dress uniform, as required, anxiously anticipating holding my wife in my arms and meeting our 8 month old son, Ryan, for the very first time.  Waiting.  Waiting for that final flight home.

9th. Infantry Division Vietnam

Doug Clark lay there with gaping holes in both legs with his thumbs pressed hard on his femoral arteries in order to stop the life-ending flow of blood.  (Machine-gunned at eighteen years old!) Bill Yancey floated endlessly in the Pacific watching the sharks, in a killing field of blood, tearing away at fellow servicemen, bobbing all around him, never knowing at what moment he would be next.  (Troop carrier torpedoed by a Japanese submarine!) Stewart Murphy lay face down on an island somewhere in the South Pacific.  Shot, he played dead in order to survive while having his back carved up with a Japanese bayonet! Tom Bailey was riddled with shrapnel and then shot.  Committed to a life of pain and never-ending visits to veterans' hospitals.   (Scarred and changed forever!)  

Nam Veterans

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 somber, as if seeing down eternity's distant shores ..." I didn't put it there," He said. Cause for reflection ...

God bless Nam Veterans

UNKNOWN WRITER

"SWEET FLAG OF LIBERTY"

From
The United States of America
by
Vaughan Glaser

The United States of America May your flag forever wave And may it always symbolize "The home of free and brave" I ponder at your "colors" The stars, like gleaming light Mingled with the red and blue And streaming stripes of white These white stripes of your standard Ideals, both pure and true The distant hopes you brought to earth The stars, on field of blue And then, for the sore travail The blood so many shed In the "cause" of liberty And so, the stripes of red Yet, the only fitting monument To this sad and bloody cost Our dedication to the "cause"For which these lives were lost Once more your gallant "colors"Soar high against the foe Above the sands of Baghdad And the fields of Kosovo Your thirteen stars are fifty now"Sweet flag of liberty"To forty-eight, add Arctic state And Islands of the sea But this nation can't be measured In dimensions of the earth Nor landscape state its beauty Nor gold define its worth 'Tis the heart of your people 'Tis an essence that's defined 'Tis a liberty made tangible In the freedom of the mind So, when your waving flag Should pass in proud display Let this nation chant in unison I love the U.S.A.

The End

MY RIFLE

This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend.It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My rifle, without me is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will....My rifle and myself know that what counts in war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We will hit... My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories, its sights, and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will....Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, victory is America's and there is no enemy, but Peace!

By: Maj. Gen William H. Rupertus