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Marine Corps Vietnam Poem

With a Rifle in my Hand
Written By Melissa Wood
Former Corporal, USMC

I was just a private with a rifle in my hand
Along with fellow Marines, we go to make our stand
The plane ride took forever as the tension filled the air
To a place called Vietnam, our country sent us there.

I’ve been on base, we’re packing up our ammo and some knifes
Heading out into the foreign fields where we could lose our lives
The jungle all around us, we’re crawling on the ground
The enemy is very near, and the sun is going down

That night was just the first of many, the death roll moving on
The men I fought with side by side was also someone’s son
Time just kept going by, everyday slower than the other
I yearned to see the smiling face of my dear old mother

The blood shed and the smell of death from villages we would roam
Hoping that we were closer to the day we’re going home
Two years in Vietnam had come to pass when it finally caught up with me
I saved a soldiers life by taking out my knee

They flew me back to the U.S.A. I was going home at last
In a wheelchair with half a leg that was wrapped up in a cast
But what was waiting for me when I got home made me sick as I could be
People were protesting against this war. Is this reality?

I watched my fellow Marines die with honor and valor, in a country far away
For the rights of your freedom, their lives they had to pay
Words like liberty and honor you’ll never understand
We provided you these privileges with our rifle in our hand

Semper Fi! Dedicated to all the Vietnam Vets.

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