A helicopter skeetered bravely in And pitched and yawed against the enemy fire That wasn’t there. The manliest of men Descended unto us in flawless attire
His tailored khaki suit was starched and pressed Its creases as sharp as a Ka-bar knife Never was a reporter more perfectly dressed For getting the news while risking his life
The C.O. sped him past our positions And hustled him into the T.O.C.1 To ensure each noun and preposition Would be written for the greater good, you see
Much ink and Scotch were undoubtedly spilled In air-conditioned comfort, no heat or mud; With scripted heroics his notebook was filled No need to stain his suit with his precious blood
After an hour he was hustled back To Saigon for an evening reception After he wrote of a great attack And wired New York his immaculate deception
A helicopter skeetered bravely out And yawed and pitched against a ******’s shot That wasn’t there. A great Communist rout? There’s more than one kind of jungle rot
1Tactical Operations Center - command bunker, often air-conditioned.