Bunker Mentality



A helluva way to die,

wondering if I’d see

my next birthday,

huddled like a rat

in the damp dank darkness

of a bunker reinforced

with sandbags and steel plates,

hearing the mortar shells

overhead, praying short rounds

do not test our protection

Yes praying, because there are

no atheists in foxholes or

in bunkers for that matter



So much for the New Year’s truce



Bullets whizzing about,

ricocheting off the walkway

leading from my hootch

to the latrine sent me

scrambling to the bunker

Praise the Lord and pass

the ammunition, only there

is no ammo, no weapons,

we are non-combatants

or so we are told; tell that

to Victor Charlie with

the AK-47 and his pal with

the RPG launcher



So much for the New Year’s truce



An eternity passes before

the welcome staccato chatter

of machine guns rakes

the tall grass bordering

our living quarters; then

the whoosh of rockets

destroying the mortar tubes,

Cobras spitting their venom,

assuring these invaders

will not live to fight another day



Tet January 1968

From Tan Son Nhut Air Base

Happy New Year to all