~i'm no hero~ The lady said, “Heroes sit here, In our most honored chair,” “I don’t mean to sound insincere,” I replied, “but where do I sit,” “Because I’m no hero. No, not a bit. I just went where my country told me to go. There was no question, there was no pause, Nothing there that should merit applause. I’m no hero! Just because into the breach of hell I did go. For men of honor have no choice Than to join in the shout with freedom’s voice I didn’t think about it, I just went, To join the army of soldiers sent... Wouldn’t anybody? I’m no hero! I would rather not have had to go, If there was another way I don’t know. Sure, I’ve got a purple heart for the time I bled. People saw me then, thought I’d soon be dead. But I survived the war winds foulest blow. Escaped the master of death in embattled mist below. I’m no hero! I just slugged it out with Charley toe-to-toe, I crossed his deadly path Still feel his demonic wrath His bullets incessantly stinging Feeling incessant tearing forever shedding In my soldier’s wearied mind, Honoring buddies left behind! Though the war’s now blowing in the wind, Heart and soul still rend. I’m no hero! For then I felt no fear I now intimately know. Now I dream of rogue bullets that death’s questions ask, Killing their favorite task... I see in dreams where through fetid jungle they tore Doing their killing chore, So quick, so clean, sweeping past Memories suck me in from future cast, Forever changing moods lightning fast, Forever taking lives, yet not the last... I’m no hero! I simply had a duty when called to go I didn’t back down, but quelled the foe. I swore with all might to try To God’s bidding do, or die! Because I loved my country more than life Vowed to follow behind patriot’s drum and fife. To win freedoms to which forefathers clove Undead regiments with youthful principles war drove! Heroes are men endowed with great courage, Who with great strength sway bloody fields of carnage. Heroes are men of bold exploits favored by God, Bearing noble purpose born of native sod. I’m just an ordinary man who saw his duty, Who answered a call to arms to defend beloved liberty. I’m no hero, as you can plainly see. When the roll was called to stand for their country I stood...that’s all! I did nothing special that honor on me should befall. In Vietnam I did a little walking, A little sweating, A little bleeding, Almost dying A purple heart earning Some call A “Move too slow award” That near cut life’s silver cord. I'm no hero, for I did nothing witty nor wise I’m just one of the countless little guys Who faced daily war’s evil eyes... Doing his duty against war's bestial ogre cunning Demons within and without constantly fighting Hoping, searching, fearing, humping Marching with thousands of brothers-in-arms alongside Through valley's shadow where patriotic spirits guide. I’m no hero... Though for uncle Sam seeds of war did sow Bearing patriotic heritage planted long ago. I faced warlord Ho Chi Minh’s fiery breath, Deep and deeper into bowels of shadowed death. With vengeance he'd banished freedom’s light, Cast unwelcome caresses of wars despicable blight. Good men of conscience had that despot to stop, Proclaim bastions of freedom on every mountaintop. I’m no hero... Just another war-torn Joe, Whose warrior soul arose above cannon’s roar, Like eagles, young men's brave spirits soar, Bearing naive and gung-ho this boy next door, Above a soil enriched with soldiers seeping blood, Getting down and dirty in Nam’s mud. They say war measures the depth of a hero Young boy’s ruin mid thundered guns aglow, Just links in the chain Sent duty to retain, freedom to proclaim Growing acts of war like cancer in the brain A new set of senses war does indelibly ingrain, Combat infantrymen fates defy Virulent beasts raging inside till the day I too die. I’m no hero! Not at all like Rambo. To this day living with war etched into my lifetime Always watching for movements out of rhyme Ever listening for sounds that don’t belong, Always with the feeling something’s wrong. I still roam triple canopied jungle where I lost the boy In elephant grasses lost much of life’s joy. Neither wine nor advances of withering sun Can ever warm a cold, heated year of the gun. I’m no hero! Just because I stepped into war’s inferno. I was raised believing you answered when called, To go somewhere where freedom's were galled For a noble allegiance the young owed To shoulder a nation's heavy load To honor a sacred duty forsworn, The clarion trumpeted an obligation born, To win the red badge of courage, proudly worn. Vietnam was a duty you could not with honor refuse. Respect for goodly values I will always choose There was no choice but to do it, or self esteem lose, For their comes a time when you have to pay your dues To beloved honor uphold To keep this the land of the free and bold For country, for neighbors, for family, for God...for self! So no ma’am, I’m no hero! ***** I received a reply regarding this poem, "i'm no hero," which reached down and touched me to the core, and writing this through rivers of tears would share it with you, from a lovely lady I know only as Grandma... Nay, young man, sit over there, In our dedicated hero's chair. While people here at home just cried, While Uncle Sam to nephews lied, While mothers' hearts were sorely tried, YOU went to 'Nam and nearly died. You dealt with gore, you dealt with blood, You dealt with Vietnam's stinking mud, You dealt with Charley's stinking breath, You dealt with every buddy's death, You were there, and I was not, I wish I had the guts you've got. When you got home, you were denied, The righteous warrior's winning pride. Your naive innocence forever gone - No, I don't want to hear it, son. You just get comfy over there, In our dedicated hero's chair. One thing you don't understand About what makes heroic man. Heros, too, are oft afraid, But scared or not, what makes them brave Is that no matter what the cost, They do the job they know they must. With no excuses, no denying, No appeals, no whining, crying About "Why me?" and "Why not Joe?" You went where you were told to go. You did what must be done out there, So you go sit in that there chair. While you were gone, I stayed in school And heard the loud, protesting fool Who tore our country near asunder Ranting in a voice like thunder, Who burned the great Red, White, and Blue, Mocking, hating, men like you. None of them had ever fought. You were there and they were not. You saw the horrors of the war While they reviled you from afar. I hate to disagree with you, But you're a hero, tried and true. So I'll bring cookies, milk, and cheer And keep you company out here. The kids will stand around in awe As you tell stories of the war And maybe, when your tales are done, YOU'll know you are a hero, son! Blessings, Grandma "Liaision, Internet Military Community" "grandmas-house" 
Click the Combat Infantry Badgeto go to my Vietnam Poetry index, each poem with more action graphics and Pictures 
from the lens and poet's pen of a combat infantryman! |
