I was twenty-one and you, my love, age eighteen;
you were dressed in summer white; I in Army green.
We fell in love and life was grand; till my orders came;
we tried to pretend that everything remained the same.
The day arrived; this young Lieutenant took his flight;
time to use my training to fight the good soldier’s fight.
One last kiss before we parted; then I boarded plane;
holding tears till out of sight; so couldn’t see my pain.
I soon landed on a foreign soil; to serve my country well;
Not knowing in just brief time; I’d be marching into hell.
A comrade’s fallen, left behind and I must go in search;
upon a hill; where he may lay wounded and in a lurch.
Chopper drops us in unfriendly land; my platoon and me;
with trepidation and some fear; our guns held readily.
With Sergeant by my side; we stealthily climbed the hill;
we promised we’d not let the other; be captured to kill.
A claymore mine they say was tripped; I lay on the ground;
bleeding from an unknown wound; I never heard the sound.
The enemy had ambushed us; they set their plan in motion;
Sarge’s hand grabbed my legs; pulling me with devotion.
The Sergeant was wounded too; but still stayed by my side.
My guys fought for many hours; though many of them died.
“No morphine for me Medic; I must remain clear and alert.”
Air support was on its way; I must hang on; “Oh God I hurt!”
Once Charlie was on the run; our rescue chopper came;
wounded first, then the rest; I called out Sarge’s name.
He was the last to jump in; before we lifted up in air;
last thing I remember was; Sergeant’s concerned stare.
He passed out while holding me; and I passed out too;
He woke up in the hospital; death parted me from you.
I held on as long as could; I tried to be a soldier brave;
my love, try to understand; my wounds were too grave.
Blame me not for leaving you; blame the senseless war;
and the ones who feed the beast; from shore to shore.
Greed and power killed me; was not the enemy’s hand;
more soldiers, like me will perish; lying on foreign sand.
I’m in a place where lasting peace cannot be undone;
where serenity now takes the place of the warring gun.
Mourn me not my love; but remember me in kindness;
till we are united once again; far from men’s blindness.
© Copyright 2016 Ava Rosien. All rights reserved.
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