"Peace with Honor" (Cam Ranh Bay Christmas 1971)

There are no holy men in country now
Only horny GI’s sincerely trying 
Not to think about the war
Cracking lewd jokes designed
To move their minds to another place
Somewhere there is certainty 
there is earnest memory
Of love and hope and home
In khaki pants with a beer in their hand
Beating time to poorly played rock and roll.

There are no wise men in country now
Only wounded egos who didn’t 
Quite believe it could be like this.
Who did not listen to their brothers
Who told them the war was a fake
Both empty and full up with fighting
For a country that does not believe
In winning this ‘military conflict’
But will send them through the mill
Regardless, grist for the political machine. 

There are no philosophers in country now
Only jokesters who, on a quiet evening
Throw hands full of pebbles on the
Corrugated tin roofs of silent barracks
And shout “Incoming, incoming”
Then laugh as half-dressed and sleepy
Men run out in droves and lay down
In the red dirt of Cam Ranh
And don’t understand why this is funny
And not sad and not relief at all.

There are no old men in country now
Only silent children with tired eyes
Who just want to get home
In one piece mind and body both
Inured to clean-up crews
Shoveling pieces of Viet Cong
Arms and feet and hands into dump trucks
Remnants of last night’s raid
On the bridge to the village
Across the blue-green bay.

Late at night the fishermen come out from the village
Each sampan with a single lantern forming
A floating city across the glass-like water
They fling their nets wide and out
Until they see the parachute flares
And hear the 90 mm artillery guns
Arc shells over them for practice
The city on the sea winks out
They head for home shore again
And plot to win the final battle.