And I Served With Pride

I left a boy, I'll return a man,
The day I landed in Viet Nam.
There's a stench in the air, it smells like death.
A smell I'll have with every breath.

The heat is oppressive, hot as hell.
A breeze blows across, Oh, God! Here's that awful smell.
"Get on the truck," the Sergeant did shout.
Grab a duffel bag soldier, and move out.

Wide eyed and scared, full of fear,
I'll write home to Mom, and tell her I'm here.
And I hope she'll say a daily prayer.
And I pray to God that he'll be fair.

And let me go home, when my tour is through.
I turn to a buddy and ask, "How about you?"
"One year from today, we'll catch the freedom bird,"
A sigh of relief is almost heard.

"Get off that truck, with bag in hand,
Welcome troops, you are now in Viet Nam."
If I live to be one hundred and two,
I'll remember that day, how about you?

Oh, God I'm scared, scared as hell,
And here comes that dreaded, awful smell.

Well, I get to my unit and issued my gear.
I pray to God, "Let me survive this year."
Tomorrow's the day, I'm going to the field,
Then I ask myself, "is this for real."

The Sergeant says, "Saddle-up! Grab your ruck-sack,
Take you bag and baggage, put it on your back,
We're going to meet the 'little-man,'
Remember, you are now in Vie Nam."

We slog through the mud the jungle and such,
But always within the radio's touch.
Ahead I hear a rifle crack,
The point-man says, "Ive made contact."

We deploy, spread out, on a skirmish-line,
"Oh God! I pray it's not my time."
We're taking fire, we're under attack,
As the bullets whiz, and the rifles crack.

"It's an ambush!" An ambush - a grunt's real dread,
Only thoughts of surviving race through my head.
Did I chanber a round?, Did I lock and load?
Oh, God! I wish I wasn't here on this road.

I hit the ground, roll off to the side,
My heart is thumping, I'm churning inside.
I slip my arms from the straps of my pack,
Gotta lighten this load upon my back.

From the 'Vill,' the 'little-man is bringing smoke,
He's kicking our tails, radio silence is broke.
The Captain calls for extraction, or some relief,
Through the cussing and praying, and gnashing of teeth.

Cries of agony and pain permeate the place,
There's a look of dispair on every face.
"Where the hell's all that fire coming from?"
"There's the smoke! I see that scum."

At that, we redirect our fire,
We dump everything, and vent our ire.
The Artillery that's sitting back over the hill,
Is given the command to level the 'Vill.'

The Artillery acknowledges the last command,
Replies back, "Men, put your faces in the sand!"
Through the smoke and the dust, the big shells rain,
In the back of my mind, I'm haunted again.

Oh, God! I'm scared, scared as hell,
Here comes that dreaded, awful smell.

The fire-fight is over, there's a strange, strange mood about.
The silence is broken then the Sergeant's shout,
"Gotta get me a nose-count. Now regroup.
Hey! Wake-up soldier! Come here troop!"

The count is taken, and the point-man is dead.
Of his courage and bravery, there is much to be said.
He was a fine young man, He left a baby and wife.
Too bad he had to give his life.

My tour goes on, always the same,
The only change is the place and the name.
Dong Ha, Tay Ninh,Trang Bang, Anh Ke,
Dong Tam, Fu Bih, Chu Chi, Song Be.

As the time goes on, as did begin.
I can see my tour come to an end.
I've seen many die while in combat,
I know the meaning of life, I know where it's at.

I've had this thought, many times absurd,
Tomorrow, I catch the freedom-bird.
To fly home to the 'World,' to my Mom and Dad.
How many times this dream I've had.

Oh, God! I'm scared, scared as hell,
Here comes that dreaded, awful smell.

Well, they gave me some medals, some 'I've been theres,'
But as I go to the 'World,' I just wonder who cares,
'Bout all I gave when I got my call,
'Bout all I gave, damn near gave my all.

With gravel in my gut, a tear in my eye,
I bid my buddies a fond, last good-bye.
With duffel-bag in hand, I turn on my heel,
God, it's hard to describe all the things I feel.

The highs and lows, the joys and fears,
The bravery and sadness, the laughter and tears.
I jump in the jeep, without even a word,
Mom's daily prayers were surely heard.

I went to do what I had to do,
Carry the torch of freedom of red, white and blue.
I ask not a thing from any man!
But accept me now, here, shake my hand.

Once and for all, put me to rest,
'Cause I gave my country, my very best.
Help me heal these wounds, festering deep inside,
I've served my time, and I served with pride.

But, oh God! I'm scared, still scared as hell,
But can I now forget that awful smell?

George H. Myers
1SG, USA (Ret)