Rod was a 19-year old combat medic with the First Cavalry Division (Airborne), 1965. He is the author of Veterans Day, A Viet Nam Memoir. Rod passed away in 1999.
First, I take care of them,
day by day,
athlete's foot, pyorrhea.
Then I watch them on the trails,
check them
constantly for the fever.
The shit hits the fan.
Everyone tries to kill each other.
I have to try to save them.
Back in base, I diagnose,
hour to hour,
new eyeglasses, diarrhea.
On perimeter guard, we relax,
read old love letters from Maria.
The shit hits the fan.
Everyone tries to kill each other.
I have to try to save them.
It becomes a routine,
minute by minute,
self-inflicted wounds, gonorrhea.
We lie back, enjoy some beers,
nickname the new guy, Beaver Cleaver.
The shit hits the fan.
Everyone tries to kill each other.
I have to try to save them.
I'm running out of time,
nothing's changed,
since World War II or Korea
The captain said I could go home.
I say "I don't fucking believe ya."
The shit hits the fan.
Everyone tries to kill each other.
I have to try to save them.