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A CHRISTMAS CAROL
T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS AND ALL THROUGH THE TENT --
T'WAS THE ODOR OF FUEL OIL--THE STOVE PIPE WAS BENT.
THE SHOE PACKS WERE HUNG BY THE OIL STOVE WITH CARE
IN HOPES THEY WOULD ISSUE EACH MAN A NEW PAIR.
THE WEARY GI'S WERE SOCKED OUT IN THEIR BEDS WHILE VISIONS
OF SUGAR BABES DANCED THROUGH THEIR HEADS.
WHEN OUT ON THE RIDGE LINE THERE AROSE SUCH A CLATTER.
A CHINESE MACHINE GUN HAD STARTED TO CHATTER.
I RUSHED TO MY RIFLE AND PULLED BACK THE BOLT - THE REST
OF MY TENT MATE'S AWOKE WITH A JOLT.
OUTSIDE WE COULD HEAR OUR PLATOON SGT. KELLY, A LITTLE SHORT
MAN WITH A LITTLE POT BELLY EXCEPT WHEN HE LAUGHED LIKE A BOWL
OF JELLY. UP CLANCY, UP LANCY, UP CONNERS AND WATSON, UP SHILLER
AND DILLER, BAKER AND DODSON.
WE TUMBLED OUTSIDE IN A SWIRL OF CONFUSION -- SO COLD THAT
EACH MAN COULD HAVE USED A TRANSFUSION.
GET UP ON THAT RIDGE LINE AND SILENCE THAT RED AND DON'T YOU COME
BACK TILL YOU'RE SURE HE IS DEAD -- THEN PUTTING HIS THUMB ASIDE OF HIS
NOSE SGT. KELLY TOOK LEAVE OF US SHIVERING JOE'S.
BUT WE ALL HEARD HIM SAY IN A VOICE SOFT AND QUIET,
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT".
WRITTEN BY SGT. LANDON KELSO WHILE SERVING IN KOREA IN 1951.
SGT. KELSO IS AN EX-POW AND NOW RESIDES IN ARIZONA.
FREE AGAIN
TONIGHT I SAW OLE GLORY FLY
AS CANDLES LIT THE TWILIGHT SKY
I SAW A FLAG THAT REPRESENTS
OUR MISSING VETS WHO WERE SENT
TO DEFEND WHAT WE HOLD DEAR
YET LEFT BEHIND WHILE WE�RE SAFE HERE
THEY PAID THE PRICE WHEN DUTY CALLED
OUR MISSING VETS WHO GAVE THEIR ALL
WE HAVE BEEN TOLD THEY ALL CAME OUT
STILL WE WONDER FILLED WITH DOUBT
AS LONG AS ONE LAST VET REMAINS
ON FOREIGN SOIL IT LEAVES A STAIN
UPON THE FLAG WE FLY SO PROUD
AND EVERY VOICE SHOULD CRY OUT LOUD
THESE MEN DESERVE TO BE BROUGHT HOME
NOT LEFT TO DIE ALL ALONE
THEY DID THEIR PART NOW YOU AND I
NEED TO QUESTION AND ASK WHY
IS NOTHING DONE TO BRING THEM IN
BACK WITH US AND SAFE AGAIN
NOW LET OUR VOICES BLEND AS ONE
DEMANDING THAT THE JOB BE DONE
THE JOB OF BRINGING HOME OUR MEN
THAT THEY TOO MAY BE FREE AGAIN
MAY SECOND 1992
COPYRIGHT TO BILL PERRY
TO FORGIVE
Air Force--Army--Navy--Corps
the fighting forces that go to war
they shed their blood for you and me
far from home--where they really want to be
they duck as the bullets fly by
and as they duck--they wonder why
people back at home don't care
if they live or die
they take to the streets--and call them names
while the politicians think it's just a game
drop some bombs today
but not again tomorrow
build up that body count
but forget about the sorrow
that each and every one of them
feel inside their heart
with each day--their world is torn apart
the fighting men--that gave their lives
to keep us safe and free
will never know true happiness
thanks to you and me.......
Dana L. Ritz
Note from the LadyWebmaster: I received the above poem from a very caring former Marine ('68-'72) who served in Nam. He writes beautiful and moving poetry in the
memory
of those that served and those that by Gods decree did not make the
journey
back home. I feel very honored to be able to place his poem on this page for others to view and to think a bit. Perhaps it and the following poems will bring back some memories.
FOR YOU
For our country
you stood vowing never to quit
Our lives you protected resting only a bit
You fought for our country and protected our pride
Our love for you we should not hide
Although we are slow in giving you thanks
Please know in our hearts we love you all ranks
From privates to colonels
on sea and on land
as you take to the sky
may God lend his hand
Tina M. McCoy
*We received this beautiful poem from this lovely young lady via email. She added this little tidbit about her poem:
I did want to brag a little...
I have my poem published in a book called Fields of Gold
Plus I won the Editors choice award for it..
We are very proud of this young lady. She works at VA in Canton, Ohio. She's one of the special angels who looks after all our veterans on a daily basis and who truly cares!
The following letter was sent to a member of VFW Post 2426 from his daughter on November 6, 1999. With his permission we are placing it on our web page. Think it sums up how many of our children feel.
Hello Dad,
I have been really thinking about you this year. I've been missing you a lot, and wishing I could squeeze more time into my to-busy schedule to see you. Life can be very fast-paced and confusing for young married couples. I'm sure you remember. But, we're working on that.
Anway....there is a specific reason for my writing to you. A few months ago, my Grandfather Wells' last wife past away. She was buried next to grandpa, and I couldn't help but notice grandpa's tombstone while attending Vicki's funeral. "Korean War Veteran", was proudly displayed along with grandpa's well-earned rank for all to see. I never heard anyone speak of the war grandpa fought in, much less the sacrifice of mind and body he gave in that war. Grandpa had been gone for more than six years before I realized the price he paid for my freedom. I'll never forget the emptiness I felt as all the cars pulled away from the graveyard that day. I watched all the people return to their lives; probaly not even remembering what grandpa did for them and their free children. I never knew while grandpa was alive that he fought for our country, therefore, I was never able to thank him. I'll not make that mistake again!
On the way home that day, I stopped by the library and retrieved as much information on the Korean and Vietnam wars as possible. From books to newspaper articles; videos to Internet information, I pulled anything and everything. So much that I'm still studying. Studying to show my children and myself the heritage proudly earned by the sacrifice given from their grandfathers. A price so big, we'll never truly know. But I am going to do my best to keep the memory of "MY VETS" alive. I am very honored to say my daddy and granddaddy fought for our freedom.
I have always respected you for not abandoning me when you and mom divorced. Even the years you went without seeing me, you continued to faithfully support me. And I knew your door was always open if I chose to live with you. And though my child-like love for mother kept me from that choice, I am thankful you gave it anyway. So you see, I've always loved you. Believe it or not, I even love your "Archie Bunker" attitude.
But after studying and seeing such sacrifice, I feel so different towards you. It sort of reminds me of a story in the bible where Jesus told His disciples, "No greater love hath a man for his friends, than he lay down his life". That is why I try to live my life for Christ, because of the great sacrifice of himself given for my mistakes. He is a true friend. And you have been a true friend to Americans everywhere by your sacrifice. I hope you know how appreciated you are.
Maybe someday I'll see grandpa again in eternity to thank him. But for now, while I still have you here, I want to take this time to express my deepest gratitude and truest appreciation for the price you paid also. I can't possibly understand, but I do know that part of you was left in Vietnam. A part I'll never really know or even be able to comprehend. But I will tell you this....my children will know, and their children will know also, the sacrifice you and grandfather gave for us. They will grow with an appreciation I hope will carry to their children and so on. So....though small it may seem, from my heart to yours....THANK YOU DAD!
The Love of A Soldier
The love of a soldier,
is filled with fear,
It's loving a girl who
isn't near,
It's waiting for mail,
though chances are slim,
An empty mail call, a
day that is dim,
It's looking at her
picture, seeing her face,
Wishing that you could
feel her warm embrace,
It's marking the days on
the calendar above,
Waiting for a leave,
when you'll see your love,
It's nights of
restlessness and very little sleep.
It's an echo in your
heart that goes ever so deep.
It's a long Saturday
night, wondering if she is true,
If she's out with
another, or thinking of you,
It's reading her
letters, your eyes filled with love,
It's making a wish on
the first star above,
It's leaving a song you
once listened to with her,
The words echo memories
and once again you're blue,
It's writing to say all
is well,
But hoping that the
truth she'll be able to tell,
It's writing of fun,
you're on top of the world,
But having so little
interest in another girl.
You come home at last
prepared for a date,
Your hands start to
tremble, you can hardly wait,
It's the look in her
eyes when you open the door,
and knowing it was all
worth waiting for.
Then it must end, the
time spent with her,
You dab at your eyes as
they start to blur,
The hour has come, you
really must part,
You must go back to war.
Loving a soldier is not
very gay,
You know in your heart
the price you must pay.
It's mostly to have, and
not to hold,
It's loving and feeling
old,
It's sending a letter
with the stamp upside down,
To a frowning love in a
far away town,
Being in love with only
your dreams,
Being thought of, Heaven
when love light gleams.
Wishing it was possible
for him to phone,
You want him to tell you
he's coming home,
And if he comes home,
it's laughter together,
Unconcious of the
people, the time and the weather.
It's knowing the whisper
of his love for you,
And whispering softly
that you love him, too.
Then comes that kiss,
the promise of love,
Knowing yu're being
watched by the Father above.
It's waving good-bye to
him in a plane,
Not knowing when you
will see him again,
Reluctantly and
painfully letting him go,
When inside, you're
crying, wanting him so.
You wait for word that
he is well,
Days go by and you
cannot tell.
When his letter comes,
you tremble with joy,
Acting like a child with
a shiny new toy.
Loving a soldier is
unfound tears,
Crying so hard for two
long years,
It's going to church to
kneel and pray
And loving him more and
more each day.
Being so proud of the
job he is doing so true,
And he's ready to die
for his country and you.
Loving a soldier is
bitter and tears,
Yes, loving a soldier is
no fun,
But it's worth the
waiting when the service is done.
The above poem was
written by four Marines who were stationed in Vietnam, all of
"A" Company, 3rd Eng. Bn. Sweepteam, Dong Ha.
L/Cpl James Dillion, Cpl. Leffew, L/Cpl. Carrey, PFC Arrendondo,
and Pvt. Harwood)
Note from Lady Webmaster: The above poem is exactly as written by hubby and his four comrades. Matt has had no contact with these men since 1968 and wonders about them often. If anyone knows anything about these comrades, please drop us a line.
�
I'M A VIETNAM VETERAN'S WIFE
It wasn't any of my worry,
I really didn't have to fear,
for none of my precious family,
was fighting or dying over there.
It was something I heard about,
In the newspaper or TV,
But all those stories just had
No effect on Me.
Well that was then and this is now.
And now I'm a VietNam Vet's wife,
I have learned much about the effect of war
and its repercussions.
In Washington D.C. there are no ricce paddies to wade through,
No dead men to identify, or no orders to take,
but my husband doesn't know that.
I have survived the nightmare screams
the memories that occupy his head.
And the nights he continues to search and destroy the enemy
that are invisible to me.
VietNam is everywhere.
It lives in our home, it sticks on the walls,
it's everywhere, even on the car.
Cuddle the wounds, or bend an ear,
it matters to me what I hear.
And sometime in my "exhaustion"
I wish VietNam could just disappear!
Pam
November 11, 1989
Dedicated to Jimi
Nam Vet 67-70 1st Air Cav.
WHERE AM I?
DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHERE I AM
MY COUNTRY SENT ME TO WAR
IN A PLACE CALLED VIETNAM.
I WAS WOUNDED THEY LEFT ME FOR DEAD
A STONE FOR MY PILLOW
AND MUD FOR MY BED.
THE ENEMY FOUND ME AND TOOK ME AWAY
THEY MADE ME A PRISONER
ON THAT UNFORGETABLE DAY.
I HAD SOME BUDDIES THAT WERE BY MY SIDE,
SOME ARE STILL HERE
BUT MOST OF THEM DIED.
HAS MY COUNTRY FORGOTTEN WHERE I AM?
ARE THEY TO LEAVE ME IN THIS FOREIGN LAND?
YOU MUST KNOW I AM HERE
WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?
YOU MUST KNOW I AM HERE
IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG?
YOU MUST KNOW WHERE I AM
YOU SENT ME TO THIS HELL
CALLED VIETNAM.
WRITTEN BY JACK HAMMOND OF DESLOGE, MISSOURI
POW/MIA REFLECTION
I WATCHED THE CLOSING CEREMONY OF THE VIETNAM WALL EXPERIENCE SUNDAY EVENING WITH MIXED EMOTIONS. THE COLOR GUARD WAS STRIKING THE COLORS, THE STATE FLAG, AND THEY INTENDED TO STRIKE THE POW/MIA FLAG. ALL WENT WELL, EXCEPT THE BLACK AND WHITE SYMBOL OF MISSING SOULS WOULD NOT COOPERATE AND BE HAULED DOWN TO BE PUT AWAY QUIETLY. IT REFUSED TO COME DOWN, AS OUR AMERICAN FLAG AND ALL UNIT FLAGS HAD BEEN REMOVED FROM THE BATTLE FIELDS AFTER WORLD WAR I AND WORLD WAR 2, KOREA, AND VIETNAM. LEAVING THE MAJORITY TO THINK IT WAS ALL OVER.
"NOT SO" SAYS THE BLACK AND WHITE SYMBOL OF PAIN. "YOU STILL HAVE NOT RESOLVED THE FATE OF THOSE WHOM I REPRESENT. WE CAME AND SERVED UNDER THOSE FLAGS THAT HAVE NOW DESERTED US."
"I WILL NOT," SAYS THE BLACK AND WHITE FLAG OF PAIN. "PERHAPS I COULD BE IMPRINTED ON THE PAYCHECKS OF ALL THE POLITICIANS WHO REFUSE TO TAKE A STAND FOR THOSE WHO I REPRESENT. (ESPECIALLY THOSE THAT ONCE WERE AS US MIA/POW AND ARE NOW POLITICIANS) NO, NOT REALLY, FOR THOSE I REPRESENT NO LONGER HAVE A VOTE, SO WHY SHOULD THEY CARE? PERHAPS THOUGH, ONE DAY THEY TOO MIGHT STAND BEFORE THIS AWESOME BLACK AND WHITE FLAG OF PAIN AND HAVE A NAME OR A FACE THAT BELONGS TO SOMEONE THAT THEY CAN NEVER ERASE FROM THEIR HEART OR MIND JUST BY HAULING ME DOWN AND FOLDING ME UP NEATLY AND PUTTING ME AWAY."
EX-POW THOMAS A. LYKE, Houston, Texas
THIS IS NOT A POEM BUT RATHER A PART OF A POW-MIA REMEMBRANCE PROGRAM THAT MY HUSBAND AND I PRESENT ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF IT.
The average person cannot understand the feeling among us called "Comradeship", because there is a common bond between us that is built by love, courage, and fear, that is experienced only by those who have been there, and those qualities do not distinguish between race, color, or belief; these are the things that mold us together.
A love born out of respect for your fellow man, the love that is brought about thru concern for mankind, when we saw those about us, our comrades, go down, or heard that distant cry for help, and there was nothing we could do but go on, wondering what happened to those we had to leave behind.
Courage when we were faced with a mission that seemed impossible, but we were aware what the consequences would be if we did not carry it thru. A courage that gave you strength to continue on, many times against great odds.
And I don't believe there is anyone who can say that, at one time or another, they did not know fear or concern, when they were facing the enemy, crossing a mine field, dodging a sniper's bullet or engaged in a fire fight, or those flying planes thru a barrage AA flack over enemy territory, or on ships in hostile waters being attacked by bombs, shells or torpedoes; and those feelings were not limited to those on the front lines only, but was also felt by those who were on the support teams.
And then there are those of us here who know a different type of love, courage, and fear, upon facing the enemy when you are overrun, forced to or ordered to surrender - face to face with the enemy and you are at his mercy - the fear of anxiety of what lies ahead.
I know most of you are aware of these infamous names - THE HANOI HILTON and ZOO, DOGPATCH, ROKO CAMPS 1 THRU 5, BILIBID PRISON, CABANATUAN CAMPS 1 AND 3, OF THE KREIG KAMPFS - DER STALAGS UND DER LUFTS - many of them built with sweat, misery and death.
And we have known love as that deep down concern for each other, when you felt inside yourself the suffering of those who are forcd to stand naked in sub-freezing weather or staked out in the hot tropical sun, or the pain experienced by being placed in a 4 by 4 cage, to remain for hours or maybe days on end.
Courage to carry on after being beaten or rifle butted because you did not "achtung" properly, or "kommen ze here" fast enough - or "koetsky" or "kow tow" as they thought you should - or after a day's work when you did not get that rice ball or bowl of soup and bread, because your "host" thought you did not do enough work that day.
And the helplessness you felt as you saw your fellow man waste away from insufficient food, or become a victim of disease from an inadequate diet, or just lose hope and give up - and then came the dreaded work details of digging mass graves and having to bury the dead in those mass graves, and the even more dreaded task of reburying those that were unearthed by animals.
And then the fear you felt when you were awakened at night or lined up at day for those many shakedown searches - and after seeing others pulled out of the ranks for no reason whatsoever,
taken away, not to be seen again, not knowing what happened to them, and wondering if you would be next. Yes, and of the courage it took to still have hope as days became weeks, weeks turned into months, and the months became years.
But there is still another type of love, courage, and fear that has been experienced by some of you here today, or who have members of your family who are enduring those feelings of helplessness, and uncertainty, and for some, a sense of lost hope and they are the families, lovers, and friends of those who we know as the MIA's.
Living with a fear for their loved ones, as day after day passes, not knowing if they are still enduring those atrocities of which we are all so familiar, or have finally paid the sacrifice of war.
Living with a hurt so deep that many have remarked as hard as it is to say, they wished they knew for sure that their loved one had paid the ultimate price and were at rest, and thus end the suffering.
And so it is with the utmost honor, respect, and dedication, that we should say, 'WE SHOULD NOT', 'NO, WE CAN NOT', 'NO, WE WILL NOT' give up hope or tire in our effort to reach a point when we can hear those words that ring so glorious after a battle is won or over, 'ALL PRESENT AND ACCCOUNTED FOR'. But if that is not possible, may God grant us the power to be heard, wherever they may be, if alive, or by those who may lie in an unmarked grave on foreign land, or on some hallowed ground in a remote jungle, or in the vast depths of a watery grave - those words which are so proudly embellished on the POW-MIA flag
'YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN!!!!!!!!!!'
[email protected]
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