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Soldiers of The Wall |
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Oh we're soldiers of the
wall,
We've fought and died for one and all.
We're just resting here you see
To see if our bloodshed kept you free
A patriot's dream for liberty.
We didn't wish to die,
When we heard that clarion cry,
But we answered the call to arms
That set us on this course...
And we'd do �er again without remorse.
For we'd rather be men than shirk
When our country needs us to do its dirty work
For we know that freedom is not free
And our children must grow tall in liberty.
We can see the purple mountain majesty,
From our wall,
See huddling masses yearning to be free,
From our wall.
We see a nation built on honesty,
Fought for with our blood of integrity.
We see great courage maintained in modesty
From our place here on the wall
Standing so proud and so tall.
We are the ones our country called
To trample tyranny beloved freedom galled.
We bore in might
Righteous spirit of right.
We fought evil in Vietnam devastating.
Armed with swords of fire and lightning,
Forces of communism dissipating
Vietcong bastions wherein wrath lay stored
Fell to America's terrible swift sword.
As American soldiers we prayed goodness
Of God given justice
Would at long last prevail
Common freedoms to Vietnamese avail.
But it was not to be...
Now as soldiers of the wall
Forever stand we,
Symbols of courageous struggle for liberty,
The best of us valiantly fallen
Blest youth forever stolen.
We hope our sacrifice wasn't in vain
For we gave our lives in suffering pain.
Where heroes proved
More than self their country loved.
Endowed with great courage and strength,
We went to any length,
Fighting in Nam's gore and mud
To inspire young men's red blood
To crown our nation with noble brotherhood.
We fought to make a difference
To stand in might, for rights defense.
We watched our buddies die,
Followed them in death by and by
Standing brave, and standing tall.
Finding gloried honor on this granite wall.
Oh we're soldiers of the wall,
We've fought and died for one and all.
We're just resting here you see
To see if our bloodshed kept you free
A patriot's dream for liberty.
We heard the distant sound of the gun
To Vietnam did run.
We did not look behind
As valorous courage we seemed to find.
So do not shed for us faint tears
See our dream for country,
See beyond the years.
As we bled in the jungles of hell
We knew we'd done our duties well.
For we answered our country's call,
�Cause someone had to do it.
We soldiers fighting in Nam's misty pall,
Gave a gift to our beloved... our all.
Oh we're soldiers of the wall,
We've fought and died for one and all.
We're just resting here you see
To see if our bloodshed kept you free
A patriot's dream for liberty.
It's lonely and so cold here.
I hope people never forget us here,
In this black marbled granite bier.
For the sign of a man,
Is the amount of respect he gives
For fathers and brothers who gave all for them
Who now on this lonely, granite wall lives.
Was our sacrifice worth it, can you see
Do you honor our proud victory
Fought and won for you and me...
Though sad we be for our sainted mothers,
Do not cry for me my brothers
But give to my death meaning
beyond my moldering grave greening.
We pray with all power in our hearts
For men guiding,
Standing safeguard protecting
Our great nation,
Brave men standing between loved ones
And death's unholy devastation.
Always remember with love and respect
Those who strains of freedom reflect
From that hallowed wall,
Revered now by us all.
Remember those living in darkening shadow
Who with courage and honor jousted
With freedom's malignant foe.
Oh we're soldiers of the wall,
We've fought and died for one and all.
We're just resting here you see
To see if our bloodshed kept you free
A patriot's dream for liberty. |
By
Gary Jacobson
Copyright 2001
Listed
October 7, 2010 |
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About
Author...
In 1966-67, Gary Jacobson served with B Co
2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry in Vietnam as a combat infantryman and is the recipient of the Purple
Heart.
Gary, who resides in Idaho writes stories he
hopes are never forgotten, perhaps compelled by
a Vietnamese legend that says, "All poets are
full of silver threads that rise inside them as
the moon grows large." So Gary says he
writes because "It is that these silver
threads are words poking at me � I must let them
out. I must! I write for my brothers who cannot
bear to talk of what they've seen and to educate
those who haven't the foggiest idea about the
effect that the horrors of war have on
boys-next-door."
Visit Gary Jacobson's site for more information
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use this poem without the author's permission.
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Gary Jacobson. ~~ |
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