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I Saw
An Old Veteran
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Beside the road
he sat
with an overgrown beard
and a strange looking
hat.
The sign he held,
well, you know what it
said.
"Will work for food",
it read!
And beside him sat a
tired-looking
dog.
The dog was jet black
with forlorn
eyes.
But you could tell that
he was in
partnership with
the old vet,
as both sat under the
canopy of darkened
skies.
All of his earthly goods
were confined to
one duffel
bag.
Tied to his dog's wounded
leg was a bloody
dirty
rag!
Of course I stopped
beside the
road
to talk a bit with him
and to learn that he
carried a
heavier load
within.
Both the vet and his
dog were
on the friendly
side
as they sat awaiting
a ride
to somewhere
down the
road,
either East or West
North or
South,
it made no difference
as long as they
had food for
the
mouth.
Where were you in the
war,
I said?
It was in Nam
as a tunnel
rat,
as he unconsciously
raised his
hat.
I could see from his
sunken eyes that
I needed to
change
the topic,
for in Nam their hot
tropic
and underground
tunnels
could rob one of his
mind,
leaving a tunnel rat
blind
to the reality of
his surroundings.
He told me that he needed
a drink...
and I knew it was not
water
for his bottle was
full.
Now, let me ask you this
dear reader;
what would you do for
this Nam vet and his
best friend,
a tired old black dog
which tagged
along?
If you had been a tunnel
rat
in Nam would you be
a friend
to alcohol,
no matter the
brand?
Before you answer that
hard question
take another look at this
unkempt pair,
for crawling through
a jungle
underground, one longs for
fresh air
from the outside world
where claustrophobia
does not hem
one in.
Would you be a friend to
Old Granddad
or to
cheap wine of any
kind?
Would you "take this pair
In?"
Give the old black dog
a bath, rub him
down
dry him off
feed him with a bowl
of "Kibbles & Bits",
and give him a name
that fits!
And what would you do
with the Nam
vet,
who hasn't died
yet?
Perhaps take him to the
VA
where he could stay
without
pay,
for there the health providers
could care for him,
clean him up, find him some clothes,
feed him well, tend to
his health,
and whatever else
only God
knows!
Then you could bring his dog
to the VA grounds
where the two
could meet
again
as they make the rounds.
Now, we both know that the scene
outlined above
will never come to
pass,
for old vets and old dogs
are an unseemly
sight,
so let them be free to
wander both day
and night.
You may find them sharing
a cardboard
box
under some unknown
bridge,
but still keeping the sign
which says
"Will work for food!"
So I shall feed them today
and send them on their
way
down the road of
tomorrow,
where you can find the two
beside the road
of "Sorrow!"
My heart breaks for an old vet,
though the war be o'er,
he isn't home
yet!
I am an old vet too,
not of Nam
but WWII,
but I have a dog named
Muggs,
who welcomes all my
hugs.
We both do not work
for food,
but have a nice warm
home
where we don't have to
roam
down some strange road
of
Tomorrow!
Better to have PTSD
for sixty years
than to have crawled through
those awful
tunnels, in a jungle called
Nam
and to have an only friend,
a black dog named
Sam! |
By
C. Douglas Caffey
Copyright 2007
Listed March
14, 2009 |
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Author's Bio:
C. Douglas Caffey is a disabled veteran of WWII. He
served (1944-1946) in the 509th Composite Bomb Group,
58th Wing, Air Photo Unit, 20th Air Force, United States
Army Air Force. It was the 509th who dropped the atomic
bombs on Japan and did the atom bomb tests at Bikini in
the Pacific. A chronic sufferer of PTSD since WWII, Doug
is a former college dean. He started writing poetry
several years ago and though he doesn't claim to be a
poet, he does claim to write from the heart. |
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C. Douglas Caffey. ~~ |
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