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Nov 2014
Another Day In Paradise,
The sun still below the trees,
Morning insects in full brigade
Buzz and bite our ears and face.
Walking a staggered formation,
Our eyes every where.
No one talks, we only stare,
Grim faced and scared.

"198 days and a wake up",
Keeps running through my head.
The air always, so thick and damp,
Lays like a wet blanket on my lungs,
Every breath takes more effort.
The Corpsman assures me,
"take some aspirin" I'd be fine.
Man, I hate this ******* place!

There are moments,
When beauty can be seen,
When the population
Viewed from a distance,
Seems less threatening.

If only their sing song high pitched
speech did not grate on my ears,
Like ******* finger nails raked,
Repeatedly cross a black board,
In forward and reverse!

The kids are kind of cute,
But always with a
Hand in your pocket.
Hell, even they got to live,
It's merely their Rice Bowl
Needing a fix.

I often wonder what this place,
might be like without the war.
How different it would be.
Maybe some kind of Paradise.
What the **** are we even doing here?
It's a complete ******* mystery to me.
No one ever bothered to ask my opinion,
I'm only a lowly grunt, not entitled to one.
A ground pounder with a *******.
Counting the days 'till I ******' split.

Emerging from the trees and tall grass,
Steps down into warm water and mud.
Another ******* rice paddy!
My feet are ****, always wet and sore.
My thighs and crotch forever in rash.
****, I do so hate this place.
"Hundred ninety eight days and a wake up,
On the Freedom Bird, back to the world."
Forever a mantra in my brain.

The ******* bordom is almost as
bad as the fear of being in the ****.
Those times are fleeting, over quick.
The rest is routine, a grind to endure.
Seems endless 'cause it ******* is!

Like the sharp crack of a whip,
One snaps past my ear!
Coming then like a swarm of Bees,
Announced by that God awful,
Chatter those A-Ks put out.
*** holes and elbows dispersed,
All of us on the run, looking for cover.
They got us boxed in cross fire,
No place to run, no spot to hide.
Hunker down in the mud,
Throw out some rounds,
And kiss your *** goodbye!

Return fire as best we can,
Spray the trees where we reckoned they be.
Mortars' now, crash and splash!
Earth erupts and mud explodes.
Some guy down the line screams in pain.
Dear God I hate this ******* place!

Do you ******* hear me God?
198 days and a wake up call,
And I'm out of here!
**** I'm only 19,
I ain't no martyr and don't wanna' be!

                    END


Jungles, deserts it's all the same,
kids pulling triggers and dying in vain.
When will we ever learn?

Sorry for all the usage of "That F word" but
that is the real deal among young Marines
in the field. Profanity is their punctuation.
Part of the swagger needed to pull the trigger.
A remembrance and salute to Veterans on their day.
May we find a way to end all war.
Written by
Stephen E Yocum  M/North Western Oregon
(M/North Western Oregon)   
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