War Is Hell - Born In '24

I was born in ’24 near the California shore, Where life was good, whether we were rich or poor. We moved around a lot, but I never asked what for, And my friends came and went like a revolving door. We lived all around the world on many different shores, So my life was certainly anything but a bore. My dad used to tell me about the First World War, And how there was a purpose to what they were fighting for. He said it was a soldier’s duty and nothing more, And such is the life of a man in the Marine Corps. My mom stopped working in the spring of ‘24, When I was born…this was long after the war. Two years later, when my older sister turned four, My dad left the service and opened up a store. I was two years old and too young to have chores, But I enjoyed our life living in the great outdoors. When I turned eighteen, I enlisted in the Corps, Just like my father, and his father before. I went right into fighting in the Second World War, Knowing full well what we were really fighting for. There was a reason to go and invade a foreign shore, After they decided to bring the fight to our door. We had to fight back and try to settle the score, So, that this kind of thing didn’t happen anymore. The worst of it all was in the summer of ’44, When we brought in thousands of men to attack the shore. It was the ugliest part of the entire war, But it had to be done to open up the door. The country saw it as a fight worth fighting for, And when we came back we were labeled heroes of war. I spent the next six years near the California shore, Keeping my thoughts locked away in a mental drawer. Then, one day, our country got involved once more, Against another enemy rotten to the core. I couldn’t believe I was fighting in another war, This time, not so sure what I was fighting for. I turned thirty years old in the summer of ’54, One year to the day since the end of the Korean War. Never again did I want to see all that blood and gore, But after six years of peace came another country’s war. Vietnam was a place I’d never heard of before, Yet, there I was, in the middle of someone else’s war. I never fully understood what we were there for, But I never questioned my duty to the Corps. I spent five years crawling around on the jungle floor, Trying to settle someone else’s bloody score. We were losing men by the thousands, yet came thousands more, Because politicians were in charge from a distant shore. I got out of Vietnam in the spring of ’64, And that was the end of my career in the Corps. My son turned eighteen in the winter of ’84, Joined the Marines, and moved to the California shore. I told him to make me a promise and he swore, To never fight unless he knew what he was fighting for. I’ve seen enough blood and it’s impossible to ignore, The fact that war is hell, and hell is going to war.