it was third platoon’s turn to leave
the safety of the wire
our platoon’s mission
search and destroy
the air was like a sauna with no relief
the jungle closed in on us
blocked out the sun
our packs weighed on us
as we humped twenty klicks
without a break
our jungle fatigues
hung heavy on us
failed to wick sweat away
from our bodies
we felt as though a
salty monsoon had soaked us
Johnson, on point, was
out in front probing
for the enemy
we all hoped the day
would end peacefully
we spread out
to lesson our chances
of mass casualties
we reached the village
mid afternoon
it was deserted
even the water buffalo was gone
we ripped up the floors
in each hootch looking for
the hidden enemy-but found none
when we finished searching
we pulled our Zippos from
our pockets and lit
the dry straw that served as
a roof on each one
and watched as the hootches roared up
in flames like a Roman candle on July 4
our lieutenant signaled for us to
take a break and we sat among
the debris some smoking
cigarettes others catching some zees
no one was
going home in a body bag
our day was a success
Beyond the Wire
another day in country
we shuffled out beyond the wire
our platoon’s mission
search and destroy
the air was hot and humid
like a sauna with no relief
the jungle closed in on us
wrapping us in a green cloak
blocking out the sun
Johnson, on point, was
out in front probing
for the enemy
hoping the day
would end peacefully
we spread out
lessoning our chances
of becoming an easy target
our heavy packs weighed on us
as we humped twenty klicks
without a break
our jungle fatigues
failed to wick sweat away
from our bodies leaving
us feeling as though
a monsoon had soaked us
we reached the village
and began searching each hootch carefully
ripping up flooring looking
for the hidden enemy
when we had finished searching
we pulled our Zippos from
our pockets and lit
the dry straw that served as
the roof on each one
and watched as each one roared up
in flames like a Roman candle on July 4
our lieutenant signaled for us to
take a break and we sat among
the debris some smoking
cigarettes others smoking reefer
our day was a success
no one was
going home in a body bag
Shoot the Hootch O dear
The raft is wild upon the flow
I could walk across no fear
If the active Christ said so
I’d choose rubber or wood
Back scratched by splinters
Or stuck with you in childhood
After shiver and shake Winters
God could part the river wood
To wood I’d race you then
across slippery silt and driftwood
You’d be amazed and praise Amen
Shoot the Hootch It’s vividly spry
Shade’s in the leaning branches
In May the water is on a high
And you’d no worry of avalanches
God showed me hidden beauty met friend
I stood scoped took in the riverscape
In the sun and zephyr I’d mend
Out in nature’s playground escape
5/7/2022
A professor of mine told a story
Of a litterbug caught in the act
So the witness retrieved
What the litterbug heaved
With the thought that with guilt he’d be wracked.
He caught up with the guy and returned it
And the man was embarrassed indeed.
This took place long ago
And the times, as you know,
Have few niceties people do heed.
So today, I observed someone drinking.
Once his bottle of hootch emptied out,
It got tossed through a fence
Where I’m sure it will hence
Be a permanent fixture, no doubt.
Though a garbage pail stood on the corner
Any effort was not worth a damn.
But did I interfere?
No, the years have made clear
Caution makes me the coward I am.
Remember back when you were a kid
Every day was a wonderful adventure
Exciting things to explore and investigate
Do frogs have pearly white dentures
Or why do elephants weigh so much
Weight Watchers might do them some good
What about a nasty old lion's bad temper
Did they not have a loving childhood
So many questions, I'm full of questions
Like why are most horses so nice
They never get upset when a bridle's put on
But heard one kicked a man twice
Then there's the sweet old teddy bear
Some have vowed they've never heard 'em talk
I got news for all you doubting Thomases
Sometimes they even go for a walk
Found some hootch down in the basement
Twenty-year-old brandy I suspect
When I sober up and read what I wrote
Might swear off the booze by heck
Remember back when you were a kid
Every day was a wonderful adventure
Exciting things to explore and investigate
Do frogs have pearly white dentures
Or why do elephants weigh so much
Weight Watchers might do them some good
What about a nasty old lion's bad temper
Did they not have a loving childhood
So many questions, I'm full of questions
Like why are most horses so nice
They never get upset when a bridle's put on
But heard one kicked a man twice
Then there's the sweet old teddy bear
Some have vowed they've never heard 'em talk
I got news for all you doubting Thomases
Sometimes they even go for a walk
Found some hootch down in the basement
Twenty year old brandy I suspect
When I sober up and read what I wrote
Might swear off the booze by heck
© Jack Ellison 2014
In ol' Songbe the choppers rise
From the sling-out pad with sleepy eyes,
All filled with special OD goodies--
Frags and doo just for the boonies.
We'll convoy up Rt. 309
And build a bridge
Where the French one stood.
The laterite is packed real tight
To support the five-tons through the fight.
The peneprime smells oooh just right
With body bags stacked in the hootch tonight.
So come sing the happy convoy song:
Santana is struming and "beer to the front!"
"Carry me back to ol' Kambuja,"
The electric guitars drift o'er the berm.
And the sweat is mixed with the three-two beer,
Nobody here is filled with fear,
And the stars by the thousands stand up to cheer
Santana and doo and a breeze from the sea.
The rockets are pretty seen from afar.
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