Looking around,
I board the jet.
Uncle Sam, we know,
Doesn’t like to wait.
I feel the excitement
And smell the fear
Of the unknown.
Travel across the ocean
To the jungle floor,
Not realizing
What I was getting into.
The government draft
To Vietnam,
Fighting the enemy.
It wasn’t even “our” war,
An ugly-ugly war
With death everywhere.
I pray to God to please
Watch over me & my boys.
It’s over—I’m going home.
Some of us will make it,
And some of us won’t.
Even with blood spilt,
I did my duty
For Uncle Sam.
Guess what— if asked
I would do it all over again.