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Margi Harrell on piano: Give Thanks + jungle sounds 
by Gary Jacobson © November 2006 
I’m trying to fathom what thankful presentments fill my soul. You know, it could be a whole hell of a lot worse. I could be pushin’ up posies ‘stead a here spoutin’ verse. So I guess most of all, I’m thankful I ain’t yet dead Laced with bullet holes oozing red Here in Vietnam, ten thousand miles from home Sent forth the rotting jungle to roam. War has reduced my passionate patriotism to stone Still so abandoned ... still so alone Still bearing pains born in this land of egregious hurt To survive it this grunt just keeps on poundin’ dirt So pardon me for wish’n for family, hearth and home ‘Stead of walkin’ this park from dawn till dark Just a might cumbersome... Just a might adventuresome... This blithesome war chuck full o’ shock and awesome. I guess I’d like to say I’m truly thankful Heaps more thankful than regretful Sent where C-ham and chokers take an awful toll Leaving spirits kinda sick ... kinda droll. I’d give my left, uh, you know ... manhood, Nam to quicken Even a bucket o’ golden brown Kentucky Fried Chicken. U’um, I’d like some tasty bird finger lick’n good Especially at Thanksgiving ... you better know I would. 
Remembering feeling good and overfed Thanksgiving feasts with heaping turkey back in the world The parties, the girls, the cruising, the girls unfurled My car, the girls, my mother and apple pie, the girls, my family. That’s why I’m here, just an armed turkey Mired in Nam’s fickle state of perplexity Surviving eternal “move ‘em outs” with a grunt’s dexterity. I’m most thankful for rare nights of relative calm I laugh and joke with brothers, to weary minds a peaceful balm When there’s no bloodshed, no firefight... No Charlie’s comin’ through the wire tonight Just the routine clamor of interdictive artillery overhead Reassuring I can snuggle into Nam’s warm ground, my bed Though in my foxhole repressive fears abound Senses acutely attuned to every little sound Tight so nothing escapes you, in or out-bound. You see, I’m fighting here for freedom’s bright ray And they can’t take that away Though war’s full of conundrums, in this dirty little fray Where I clearly see man’s hypocrisy and greed Vile corruption in hatred’s evil seed For which my brothers for the good fight bleed So I’m here for them, my brothers, my fellow man Laboring alongside surviving in the heart of Vietnam. 
Deep dank dark depths of hell in the devil’s compound True brotherhood forged in this gory battleground Where men to duty bound, astonish and astound, Men honor bound, war’s complexities bewilder and confound In Vietnam, where I lost the boy, but found the man Mid contentious toil and strife Roiling, boiling hatreds brewing his carnal life. I’m thankful to know I’m living To pay sorrowful homage to the dead and dying I survived this war’s inhumanity unfurled Surviving back to this knock down ornery world, From war’s pack of lies to rise to kiss the skies Grateful to live through what I’ve seen That from wars bestial carousel careen Living with ghosts of brothers and enemies unseen. Though by the Nam heart-stricken This ‘ol home-boy can take a lickin‘n keep on tickin’ Held in the service of our country That sent me so far to march with hell’s infantry Carrying in every deed His ever righteous sword In the service of our Lord... Gone for the world to save Risen from a most foul grave. I’m grateful for my PTSD Given with a worlds sweet pain to comfort me Guiding me back to war’s malignant melee Once again down in the valley of the shadow reverie Forever riding bestial iron horses of the infantry War’s ogres dancing betimes with me Do-si-doing in and out of the maw of death Welcome back ... grateful to take a peaceful breath... So chow down on your turkey with humble thanks giving Grunt, be ever grateful for your living Grasp your family to your bosom dearly Know there are men out there, who this night do not rest easy Who yet hear brave voices whispering in hot war winds breezy Daily contending with wrong and right Men, women, this very Thanksgiving night Valiantly pursuing for the land they love, the eternal fight. 
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Through pictures and poetry take a walk in "the park" with the 1st Air Cavalry on combat patrol. Experience chilling reality that will give you the acrid taste of "the Nam" on your tongue, leave the pungent smell of "the Nam" burning in your nostrils imbedding textures of "the Nam" in your brain as if you walked beside me in combat. Click here to return to “Realm Of Poetry” Site Map For poems of love and romance, knightly heraldry, spirituality and comedy. 
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