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Retrospect (DMZ 1967 3RD TK.BN. 3RD MAR.DIV.)
Retrospect( dmz-67) in my mind i am often back in vietnam i can once again feel the muggy hot as the red sun rises unveiling steamy green jungle mountains and low land rice paddies of a almost mystical land thatched roof hotches balanced on bamboo poles or dirt floored huts with hiding holes water buffalos and funny little people of many guises who dig underground complexes like groundhogs and tiny moles long winding trails up and down around and around pungi stakes ambush sites and booby traps on jungle trails and paddy dikes both lost and found roads and ancient cities villages and pagodas thousands of strange people in their ever changing wraps with endless chattering and peculiar orders the wack smack sound of chopper blades carrying wounded buddies who gave more than blood in the distance heightens and fades mcnamaras line no place for the boot or the blind hilltop fortresses to keep back the human flood places occupied with fear guts and dragging time operations called search and destroy tracked armor and men on line deployed in the vast dragons domain looking for a so called illusive enemy master of decoy phantom jets and spectacular napalm and bomb blasts chewing up country side and human hide at a voices command chemically saturated and plowed up land now in a barron and decaying mode meant to last funny thing about an enemy a marine must kill at first they are sick and can feel but soon comes a callus and cool at practicing their warrior skills back home there was protests riots and morals under fire but moms and dads kept uneasily still even though the news told of baby killers and murder for hire then came the day when one was snatched from the asian mire back to the real world of ones own choosing to a home where freedom and love was said to flower soon to find that those who sent them listened more to public eyed loosing directed by the news cameras own choosing became to quickly to be hellbent against them so here we are to many decades later fought and silently struggled to make a way without the help of the war lovers and haters we do not want any ones praise it is way to late when numb are the feelings and hurts of earlier days so leave us be and let us our own flags raise as for those who had to die while for years politicians pretended to rage they did not have the chance or time to question or reason why theirs is a memorial wall dedicated in our capital town where the names of those real heroes are found although much to long in coming one might resound but if they were up and walking around at parades they would not be found they would be looking for the lost and forgotten ones who have not harped and sounded who have not always cried for attention to be surrounded who are still out there hiding from the nam and at the same time searching to be found by c.r.hurst,jr (usmc nam12/66 to 12/67 dmz ) 2/96
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