Our Last Night in Xuan Loc

by William Howard

Prose


THE BUNKER IS A TOMB FOR THE LIVING

by Hartley Barnes

Prose


Hanging Tough Is Tough

by George Kulas

Prose


Tonight's Patrol

by Justin Stone

Prose


Requiem for a Tet Survivor

by La Decker

Prose


Too Late

by Tony Craidon

Poem


I'M STILL IN VIETNAM

By K. Larsen, Army

Writing Type: Poem

A part of me is still in Vietnam
Sometimes I forget who I am.

I heard a clap of thunder last night.
It gave me an awful fright.

Because there in my dreams
Were dying Army men and Marines.

I awoke and started to shout,
But I didn’t know what it was all about.

I was a good soldier -- special forces. We were one of the best.

We’d fight and take no prisoners, no survivors, and die like the rest.

I was gung ho airborne all the way.
We’d get no peace, no rest and fight night and day.

We’d fight the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong
From one end of their country to Saigon.

I didn’t want this war but I was there just as well. But to those of us who served, we all had our own private hell.

A part of me wished I was not in this war,
But another part already knew the score.

I’m a very confused, angry man
Since I went to Vietnam.

I’m still a child deep inside,
For I never had time for foolish pride.

I used to think I was very brave.
Now to be left alone is all I crave.

The V.A. hospital says I have PTSD
Because I fought from the Mekong Delta to the DMZ.

We fought for freedom and the red, white and blue.
We fought for America, Liberty and for you.

But all in all, I’m still in Vietnam.
And I still don’t know who I am.

Hartford, CT. Great Circus Fire

by George Arnold

Prose


The Hand of God in Vietnam

by Max Riekse

Prose


CLIP CLOP, CLIP CLOP

by Donald Conway

Prose


THE BUNKER IS A TOMB FOR THE LIVING

by Hartley Barnes

Prose


Life Was Simpler When I Carried a Duffel Bag

by George Kulas

Prose


Early Jade of Morning

by Frank Mattson

Poem