A Soldier's Thoughts
Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, my rifle by my side.
I live and fear the evil, and no longer take life in stride.
My comrades, they walk with me. We reek of the fear we feel.
Which would be the next one of us to suffer the enemy’s steel.
The night falls quickly upon us, shots and bombs fly everywhere.
The metal and sparks cause confusion, as the resounding clicks of rifles echo in the air.
One could barely see the trembling brush or feel the heat of night.
Breathing seems like another job, in the center of the devil’s plight.
Another shot, another down. Their missing limbs from bombs abound.
Through the haze I heard soldiers cry, for God and their mama’s, knowing they’re going to die.
It may be by God or my mother I was raised, my comfort comes from my belief in faith.
Please spare me the pain, and the rest who survive, for a part of us all is certain to die.
Blessed are the soldiers who leave this place for their souls are now in God’s good grace.
For those of us left here will carry on and harbor the memories of Vietnam
James Lee Jordan, Specialist 4th Class Vietnam 1969 - 1971
by Contributing Poet Alicia Anderson Copyright © 2024
VWP 2024 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, my rifle by my side.
I live and fear the evil, and no longer take life in stride.
My comrades, they walk with me. We reek of the fear we feel.
Which would be the next one of us to suffer the enemy’s steel.
The night falls quickly upon us, shots and bombs fly everywhere.
The metal and sparks cause confusion, as the resounding clicks of rifles echo in the air.
One could barely see the trembling brush or feel the heat of night.
Breathing seems like another job, in the center of the devil’s plight.
Another shot, another down. Their missing limbs from bombs abound.
Through the haze I heard soldiers cry, for God and their mama’s, knowing they’re going to die.
It may be by God or my mother I was raised, my comfort comes from my belief in faith.
Please spare me the pain, and the rest who survive, for a part of us all is certain to die.
Blessed are the soldiers who leave this place for their souls are now in God’s good grace.
For those of us left here will carry on and harbor the memories of Vietnam
James Lee Jordan, Specialist 4th Class Vietnam 1969 - 1971
by Contributing Poet Alicia Anderson Copyright © 2024
VWP 2024 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Bio: Alicia Anderson is married with adult children, and many grandchildren. She comes from a huge military family, including members who served during many different wars. She wanted to serve those who served us, and she was fortunate enough to become a nurse for the Veteran’s Healthcare Administration. She has been writing poetry since elementary school. This poem was inspired by a Vietnam War Hero, James Lee Jordan, Specialist 4th Class. He shared his ordeal in Vietnam when serving from 1969 - 1971. These words are his thoughts in the aftermath. He is a decorated war hero with two Purple Hearts. Anderson is honored to be the one, who, with his blessing, brought this poem of his experience in Vietnam to the reality of the reader.
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