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Contributor: Gary Jacobson || Poem Categories

I'm No Hero country as flag
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 the "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!
By Gary Jacobson
Copyright 2000
Listed August 11, 2010
Read Gary Jacobson's story... I'm No Hero

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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