Our spirit weary, eyes are red,
Our bodies tremble, counting the dead.
Smoke from gunfire hangs in the air,
We gaze at each other with a thousand mile stare.
Troubled, saddened, our thoughts we hide,
Stare at the battlefield, where our buddies just died.
We remember the good times,
With Mikey and Jack,
Carry their bodies in a green zippered sack,
Thinking to ourselves, they will never be back.
We remember their pictures,
Their girls, Mom and Dad,
Remember all the joking,
The fun that we had.
We carry them gently,
Hold back a cry,
We always knew,
Some day we could die.
The reason we fight,
We have one another,
Not for anything else,
Just brother with brother.
Dedicated to all the Airborne troopers 101st ABN DIV 1969
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem