The Red Dust of Lai Khê
(In memory of Patricia Ann "Patti" Ehline)
The wop-wop-wop as a chopper drops another critical load
While red dust of Lai Khê hovers high o’er Thunder Road
The rusty red clay plumes, hang like talcum in the sky
A “Dust Off” load of wounded, will they live or will they die?
The air thick and sullen, bearing the weight of summer’s heat
As twelve hours bleed to twenty-four for nurses on their feet
At the LZ they triage the wounded who could live or die
Wrestling life from ragged bone, beneath Nam’s scarlet sky
Like the pulling of a trigger, the decision must be made
To choose who lives or dies in a land that knows no shade
With endless lines of stretchers, wounded men with fearful eyes
There is no time to second guess as another “Dust Off” flies
Numbing every feeling, she works with steady hand
She’s youthful but fire hardened, in a dark hostile land
The sirens wail a warning, to the bunker she must run
With mortars and rocket fire, this war is far from done
Another chopper lands, more soldiers in need of care
She takes a weary breath, shakes the red dust from her hair
She’s the wall between the horrors, making another heavy choice
But the one thing he remembers is that nurse’s welcome voice
The last words he remembered, before the ether took its hold
She said, “I’ll take good care of you,” a nurse so young and bold
A promise Patti whispered, through the chaos and the roar
She spoke to hundreds, and she’d speak to thousands more
She couldn’t know the faces, or recall a soldier’s name
In the jungles of sixty-eight medevacs flew in heat and rain
She finally left the jungle, but the war still tagged along
The haunting sleepless nights were never truly gone
Years after the war ended, the bloody red clay now dried
The drumming of the Huey’s in the heat had finally died
A man walked up to Patti, “You were my nurse in Nam”
“You took off my leg,” she looked but did not know the man
Her job was saving lives from bullets, mortars and from mines
He said, “When you’re dying last words live inside your mind”
The gentle hands, the expert skill, the kindness in her voice
The last thing he remembered was the nurse who made that choice.
Each day these nurses faced the dangers, their lives on the line
Always knowing by chance, one day it might come their time
Like Sharon who took Patti’s place, killed when a rocket struck
Gone in her first week in Nam, dark chance instead of luck
The war is now a memory, but the healing never ends
She stands for every soldier, for her sisters and her friends
No longer just a witness to the blood and red clay dust
She’s the voice for every veteran, a legacy of trust
A fire hardened soldier, with a caring gentle grace
In Nam she stood with honor, despite what all she faced
We thank the nurses for their service, by answering the call
The soldiers they saved, are men who lived to see the wall
by Contributing Poet Eric Shaffer Copyright © 2026
VWP 2026 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
(In memory of Patricia Ann "Patti" Ehline)
The wop-wop-wop as a chopper drops another critical load
While red dust of Lai Khê hovers high o’er Thunder Road
The rusty red clay plumes, hang like talcum in the sky
A “Dust Off” load of wounded, will they live or will they die?
The air thick and sullen, bearing the weight of summer’s heat
As twelve hours bleed to twenty-four for nurses on their feet
At the LZ they triage the wounded who could live or die
Wrestling life from ragged bone, beneath Nam’s scarlet sky
Like the pulling of a trigger, the decision must be made
To choose who lives or dies in a land that knows no shade
With endless lines of stretchers, wounded men with fearful eyes
There is no time to second guess as another “Dust Off” flies
Numbing every feeling, she works with steady hand
She’s youthful but fire hardened, in a dark hostile land
The sirens wail a warning, to the bunker she must run
With mortars and rocket fire, this war is far from done
Another chopper lands, more soldiers in need of care
She takes a weary breath, shakes the red dust from her hair
She’s the wall between the horrors, making another heavy choice
But the one thing he remembers is that nurse’s welcome voice
The last words he remembered, before the ether took its hold
She said, “I’ll take good care of you,” a nurse so young and bold
A promise Patti whispered, through the chaos and the roar
She spoke to hundreds, and she’d speak to thousands more
She couldn’t know the faces, or recall a soldier’s name
In the jungles of sixty-eight medevacs flew in heat and rain
She finally left the jungle, but the war still tagged along
The haunting sleepless nights were never truly gone
Years after the war ended, the bloody red clay now dried
The drumming of the Huey’s in the heat had finally died
A man walked up to Patti, “You were my nurse in Nam”
“You took off my leg,” she looked but did not know the man
Her job was saving lives from bullets, mortars and from mines
He said, “When you’re dying last words live inside your mind”
The gentle hands, the expert skill, the kindness in her voice
The last thing he remembered was the nurse who made that choice.
Each day these nurses faced the dangers, their lives on the line
Always knowing by chance, one day it might come their time
Like Sharon who took Patti’s place, killed when a rocket struck
Gone in her first week in Nam, dark chance instead of luck
The war is now a memory, but the healing never ends
She stands for every soldier, for her sisters and her friends
No longer just a witness to the blood and red clay dust
She’s the voice for every veteran, a legacy of trust
A fire hardened soldier, with a caring gentle grace
In Nam she stood with honor, despite what all she faced
We thank the nurses for their service, by answering the call
The soldiers they saved, are men who lived to see the wall
by Contributing Poet Eric Shaffer Copyright © 2026
VWP 2026 First published in VietnamWarPoetry.com
Bio: Eric Shaffer grew up in central Alberta graduating from high school in the late 1960’s. His
teenage years were heavily influenced by the music of the 60’s, the civil rights movements, and
the Vietnam War. He primarily worked in the oilfield. His oilfield adventures—working in the
arctic, sailing the Northwest Passage, living in Europe, and working in South America, the
Middle East, and Russia—became his career in life. An award-winning cowboy poet, he writes
poetry of the Great War, Ukraine War, peoples’ life stories, and events like tornados and
wildfires. Eric read about Patricia Ann "Patti" Ehline and wrote this poem so Patti’s story is not
forgotten, as she was one of many nurses who served in Vietnam.
teenage years were heavily influenced by the music of the 60’s, the civil rights movements, and
the Vietnam War. He primarily worked in the oilfield. His oilfield adventures—working in the
arctic, sailing the Northwest Passage, living in Europe, and working in South America, the
Middle East, and Russia—became his career in life. An award-winning cowboy poet, he writes
poetry of the Great War, Ukraine War, peoples’ life stories, and events like tornados and
wildfires. Eric read about Patricia Ann "Patti" Ehline and wrote this poem so Patti’s story is not
forgotten, as she was one of many nurses who served in Vietnam.
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