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The Veteran |
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All hail the honorable Veteran,
Whether he served as cook, tanker, or combat infantryman.
Standing hickory tall and proud,
Silvery head held high above the crowd.
In pride now through unforgiven weeping
In anticipation of dying
A nation's veterans put body and soul on the line,
Patrolling the valley of shadowed Hell's rhyme.
Ask a veteran about Hell and High Water,
He'll likely map out coordinates brother.
Cause He's been there and back,
Hells fire burning in his eye,
And a brimstone souvenir in his rucksack.
His Eagle eyes burn no longer sharp and keen,
Burnt preserving freedom's light they've seen.
Veterans gave their very best
Preserved sacred values for all the rest.
He honored a land more than life he loved,
With courage in duty all eyes observed.
He answered the call to arms at a countries behest,
A deadly price ripened thru war's unholy harvest.
Veterans know freedom's not cheap,
For In mortal combat, you sow what you reap.
Whether with scythe, sickle, or M-16
Peace grows from freedom's
Warriors from battlefields glean.
Veterans don't take no guff,
So don't go putting up that weak stuff.
The fate of the world rested in Veteran hands.
Their sweat preserved these star spangled lands.
Veterans can talk the talk,
�Cause indeed they walked the walk.
Veterans are the reason Americans walk free
Enjoying life through eyes seeing only liberty.
Veterans learned lessons of war in jungles greening black,
Fought back rushing adrenaline, refusing to slack,
Waiting under fire for a virulent foes attack,
Learned to watch a buddy's back.
War made a boy before his time grow old,
Unless he died in actions swift and bold,
Humping a sweet and sour perfumed park,
Fending off specters of death, dawn into dark.
Rivers of sweat wash his soul,
Dancing to death's grim rock and roll,
Clinging desperately to life at the bottom
Of his fighting hole,
Choking on every breath,
Facing enemies preoccupied with his death.
Soldiers dream of sweethearts to have and to hold.
They suffer fevered chills from bones weary cold.
Fighting wicked elements their wills sapping,
Unbearable Heat Suffocating,
Monsoon rains spirits Drenching,
Rice paddy mud overpowering,
They wonder if spiritual strength will continue Enduring.
Old veterans now gaze with blank stares;
That cruel war on their soul bares.
For they've Battled Napalm's fiery combustion
Bearing Sodom and Gomorra like conflagration.
America's veterans have seen
Agent Orange creeping to their families' obliteration,
Delayed traumatic stress's lingering destruction,
Horrendous nerve gas distillation,
Mankind's Nuclear Holocaust proliferation.
Men who've been there, done that, know the score.
Peace on earth their main mission to restore,
To protect this generation from the reality of war,
A ritual sacrifice venerable veterans vehemently abhor. |
By
Gary Jacobson
Copyright 2001
Listed
November 5, 2010 |
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About
Author...
In 1966-67, Gary Jacobson served with B Co
2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry in Vietnam as a combat infantryman and is the recipient of the Purple
Heart.
Gary, who resides in Idaho writes stories he
hopes are never forgotten, perhaps compelled by
a Vietnamese legend that says, "All poets are
full of silver threads that rise inside them as
the moon grows large." So Gary says he
writes because "It is that these silver
threads are words poking at me � I must let them
out. I must! I write for my brothers who cannot
bear to talk of what they've seen and to educate
those who haven't the foggiest idea about the
effect that the horrors of war have on
boys-next-door."
Visit Gary Jacobson's site for more information
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