Heaven's Hung In Black

I am the Unknown Soldier.

From draft day (September 26, 1968) -

today I set foot in Vietnam (March 26, 1969) 

Six months of hardcore training. 

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At age 18, torn from home in Mississippi,

drafted into United States Army.

Went to boot camp at Fort Polk.

•  

Eight weeks of hell - 

followed by eight more weeks of AIT, Advanced Infantry Training.

Early rise, humping before dawn. Before Color Guard raises flag on pole.

I ran and ran - 5 or 6 miles, then go to breakfast.

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Training, marching, calisthenics, classes, 

rifle range, obstacle course,

and hand to hand combat.

•  

After lunch, more running,

a basic day in basic training.

•  

Once, I was a deer hunter. 

I killed for sport and venison.

Now, I am the hunted,

like the whitetail deer in the woods.

•  

I reminisce amidst the darkness...

the heavens are hung in black, 
church bells tolling.
I'm dressed in my Army uniform, 

decorated with ribbons and medals of valor. 

•  

I stand at the foot of my nephew's bed.

He sleeps, unaware of my presence.

Holding back the tears,

his innocence is like a lamb.

•  

I survived the Napalm and Vietcong,

slithering reptiles and snakes. 

The Huey gunships blot the sky.

The beast is hungry, tonight.

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My medals shine like twinkling stars.

An angel watches above, dressed in Army green.

Remember mother sending cookies from US parcel post.

•  

Only shared them with closest buddies.

Was my connection with my family.

Mail Call.

•  

Opened letters sealed with kisses 
and perfume.
To escape reality,

momentarily.

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Life was taken for granted. 

Freedom is not free.

The eagle soars.

•  

He stirs beneath the quilt. 

I must hold back the tears.

Home sweet home, Mississippi. 

Where the magnolias bloom.

Combat boots on American soil.
 

•  

Why did this war happen?

I am not the same person. Suffer from P.T.S.D. 

Night tremors and sweats buckle me, 

reliving nightmares in the Southeast Asian jungles.

•  

I have flashbacks of Nam and Punjabi sticks,  

and bayonets blanketed in blood.

The Vietcong comes with vengeance, lurking in the shadows. 

Enemy seldom sleeps.

•  

On guard duty, while platoon sleeps.

Gallinippers swarm me, 

prevents me from catching Z's in the bush.

No mosquito net or dope.

•  

Shell shocked.

I held my M-16 automatic and carried a 38 pistol in my shoulder holster.

Pineapple grenades.

I survived firefights, Constantine wire, malaria, jungle fever, and jungle rot.

Full metal jacket sniper bullets ricochet. Missed my Lucky Strikes.

Booby traps make amputees.

Zipperheads scream in the bush.  

•  

Jane Fonda protests the war,

she toured North Vietnam in 1972, 

Posing for foreign Press atop a Hanoi Anti Aircraft Gun

•  

I cough up Agent Orange

Rickey's eyes open briefly.

Did he see me? Let the boy sleep.

I survived Vietnam, but it is not over.

•  

Looking at my nephew on bunk bed.

Unaware.

Not knowing how cruel this world can be...

sleep - sleep, wee one;

may you never see war,

unlike your uncle.

•  

I will protect my loved ones

and country from harm. 

From

communism.

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Years and decades pass with the seasons.

I deer hunt and labor at the factory. 

Have few friends because of sickness inside me. 

Watch the movie, 'Deer Hunter,' at drive-in cinema.

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Old with battle fatigue,

all hope is lost. 

No one to turn to,

depression drives me insane.

•  

I hold a gun to my head.

Now, the pain and nightmares are over.

Escaping hell on earth.

•  

I am John Doe. 

One fallen hero
with a face like me.
Just another casualty of war - 

it never ends...

•  

My diary tells the truth.

From dust to dust, my ashes go, 

reincarnated into the earth.

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He leaves his family, Vietnam Service Ribbon, the Vietnam Campaign Ribbon, the Distinguished Service Medal, and a Meritorious Service Medal behind. 

 

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