The Slow-Bullet
by rgpage

In the early days of  Viet Nam
the American draft was going strong.
Young men in their prime of life,
were forced and herded into world strife.

A generation of America’s best, were
then brought home and laid to rest.
Wall Street smiled, the money flowed
the “fat Cats” called it money owed.

In towns and cities big and small,
families waited, worried, and cried.
Groups appeared, dissention grew.
"Mothers grab your son’s and hide."

There were those who felt their duty strong,
to take the leap toward blood and strife
with McNamara herding them along.
Known to the grunts as “Mac the Knife.”

The madness grew to a global scale
with those that were for and those against.
In bombing, selective targets became the norm
keeping the rest of the world from harm.

With those who didn’t feel their duty strong,
a path to the north they took.
They packed what they could, burned their cards
and paused for one last look.

With this some parents felt relief,
while others felt the disgrace. Of  seeing
the grief so many went through after
having their futures erased.

The war took over 58,000 American lives;
men and women both, (before we flew away).
Wall Street got their wages for blood, with
broken lives in pain, many thousands more would pay.

With thousands more that were yet to be lost, after returning home.
Physically and mentally scarred, even those seeming
perfectly whole. Then saying good-by to the ones they loved
in their own special way. They stoically waited for the slow-bullet to come to finally take them away…



Suicide has taken 3 or 4 times the lives than the war took. My heart cries for every last one of them…Robert G. Page, Viet Nam Vet. ‘66-’67.