A war called Vietnam

I fought a war called, Vietnam
I then came home to be spat upon
Now I hear Welcome home"
Where in hell were you when I was alone?

Wars they come, wars they go
We're older now, does it show?
We've learned, we say
Today is a new day
America must have an attention problem

Concentrate on a new day
America's answer?
"Hey a new country for our war to play"
Attention span is a might short
"A new war" is America's retort

I see, "Support our troops'
I guess violence and carnage are our roots
"We really prefer peace"
Until chickens once again come home to roost

More young people with innocent faces
Sent to kill and be killed in foreign places
"They need more children, Honey'"
"Since we've learned war brings big money"

Off to another war they go
Backpacks and guns in toe
Will they return?
No one for sure can know

No one knows till the die is cast
Not until this war is in our past
But we do already know
This war will not be our last

America dusts off it's killing machine
Again and again
In the future your children they will send
America's blood thirst will never end


Oh Mom and Dad make it end
Ignore the lies
Tell them your kids you won't send
Stop showing up, again and again

Think not sending them is unpatriotic?
Our kids being killed in foreign lands is not exotic
War is simply chaotic
America, you need a tonic

Snap out of it, get well
They say 'war' you say, 'go to hell'
In too many wars, in too many lands they fell
America, heal, time to get well

Another Memorial Day finds us

Memorial Day finds us, another year older

Memorial Day finds us no less bolder

"A war to end all wars" once said

Why, since then, are so many more dead?

Do you want to really end wars?

Are you messing with our heads?

It's been: A war on British for freedom

A war on Indians for more land

A war in the South to end slavery

A World, both I and II to end aggression

Soldiers keep marching in succession

A war to end communism

Now a war to end terror

Somehow since 'to end all wars' there's occurred an error

This Memorial Day, the war skies are no fairer

People in America have no decent jobs

Around the world, people form protest mobs

Another soldier dies, another mother sobs

We talk about love

We know more about hate

Some young soldier, for prom, just wants a date

We love our kids, so we say

Yet we pack them off to war to die

Same old lies, just another day

To die for what?

For Coke and Pepsi to get a foothold?

It's no reason to die, if I might be so bold

Sending kids to their deaths

We knew we always could

Do we ever ask if we should?

Wars are a rich person's game

Different day, the lies remain the same

Stop that war, we think someone should

But would you stop a war if you could?

The military: Go to war, my Son, or Daughter, you should

They will pay you badly, morn your death, sadly

On Memorial Day, we honor with our lips

Yet another war plan, corporations pull from their hips

I long so to hear from those who "should go"

"This new war?  No thanks.  This time I will skip"

Memorial Day finds us another year older

When it comes to war, still no less bolder

I hope you find something better to do than become a soldier

Soldier, one day you will grow older

             

                              The soldier then

When young we know no boundaries

We come to war from factories, offices and foundries

Hormones and patriotic feelings abound

That's a mix of energy to be used in leaps and bounds

The youth factor is what the military count on

"Step up here, we will help you release that energy, Son."

We feel patriotic, we think, we will win a war, what fun

Not one recruiting brochure tells you; When you're done, you're done.

That's the important part they always leave out, Son

We survive, we come out alive

We then grow older, we grow much bolder

The veteran now

We finally see war without all the fog

Plenty of memories in our brains we have logged

Don't resent those who don't understand

I highly doubt if anyone fully can

What we've seen as soldiers can only confound it

Even we who were there cannot fully wrap our minds around it

Those who've not seen aren't being mean

When you actually stand on the turf, it isn't so green

Given the small facts we were given back then

I'm sure, as young men, we would all do it again

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A Boy a War and a Dream

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All wars will once be forgotten

Even though that fact seems rotten

War, like tides, ebb and flow

They are hot when they are hot, and not when they are not

We rush to them with anxious feet

We roll out the bugles, the drum strikes a beat

They come, they go, they eventually run cold, as you know

I was a boy, like so many these days

Anxious to grow up, to become a man, a soldier was my way

A young soldier in search of myself

We can hate wars, as we well should, but this boy grew up

I grew to know all people are real, they hate,they love, and eventually heal

As new soldiers are finding out

War cries start with a shout

But they too will come to know, wars on a land they come and they go

On a land is one thing, the bombed acreage and sites heal

But to many a soldier, wars, well your youth, your sanity they can also steal

I cannot tell you about horrors of any war

Most don't believe me, they have to sail to that shore

You cannot prepare for any battles or fights

But I assure you, wars are all a terrible sight

So wars start with a cry and a shout

They start with a bugle charge and a drum roll

But believe me when I tell you, on you, young soldier, the rest of your life a war takes its toll

Meeting an author

                                   
                                                  He looks agreeable enough.  Don't you think so?



Let's meet an author.............let's meet my husband, Steve.

You know we place the proverbial 'Author's Information' on the back flaps of our books.  But what in hell do those things say about who a person really is?  Those back covers are like a resume, you try to know a person in so many words or less. Simply can't be done.

When I met Steve, I really, really was soured on relationships, namely the institution of marriage.  I felt marriage was highly over rated and each time I would see a seemingly happy couple, I just felt there was a facade, I felt no one was truly happy being married.

We have been married, this year, for 14 years now.  What's it like being married to an author? Interesting at best.  Well, he spends time writing, we spend time riding around taking pictures for our site and we love yard and estate sales.  Problem is, those sales tend to bring out the worst in both of us, sometimes, OK, most of the time.  I've learned it's not a good idea to buy anything too big.  I know Steve loves me, good thing I know this, but he likes to tell me I 'just don't always pick up items right.'  In 14 years I've never really learned the meaning of those words.  So I tend to set the item down and ask him to explain, which kind of irks him. 

What makes up an author?  Well, in this case, a nagging wife who convinced him he does have a story to tell.  So tell it already!  He did.

His story is about a boy (him) from the Midwest, who joins the Army and embarks on an interesting journey in a land called Vietnam.

He is a wonderful husband, but does any wife and husband get along all the time?  I doubt it.  His journey to become a Drill Instructor proved to be because he had and has, a burning desire to control his own destiny.  A commendable quality.  But the rigidness of the DI life can spill over into his personal life, sometimes.  Like the other day we went to lunch and the waitress decided, in the middle of our eating lunch, to try and sell us a coupon book.  She droned on and on and I saw the perturbed look coming across Steve's face.  He was good though and when she finally finished, he leaned over to me and said: "Wouldn't you think they could save that speech for after people are done eating?"  I said they are probably pressured into the speech and selling by management.  I felt sorry for her.  He left her a tip though because he truly is nice.

                           
                         A sweet, hard working young soldier.

We have had times when we were at a fast food drive through window, ordering coffee and after waiting for 10 minutes, Steve has been known to say, loudly: "How many waitresses does it take to pour two coffees?  We may never know because it isn't getting done."  He says some places give the term 'fast food' a whole new meaning.  This is true.  But somehow, I think our unhappiness or expressing it, will do little to spoil the day of a worker making minimum wage and dealing with irate customers only to not make enough to pay their bills.  

                                
                        A dashing young soldier.

Steve is highly competitive and sometimes when we play games, even on Facebook, he will compete with my scores.  Just a little quirk he has.  But that quirk is what helped him climb the ranks to be the DI he wanted to be.  

Sometimes when he asks me to do something, I like to say 'No' because it's priceless to see the look on his face.  A guy who likes to run smoothly so I have to toss a wrench in there sometimes.  I just cannot resist. 

A wife couldn't ask for a more attentive and giving husband though.  He moved across country for me to be able to advance my career and to a place, Indiana, where he couldn't wait to leave when younger.  Just helped me pack up lock, stock and barrel.

He also kept saying how he just did not like cats.  But rescued a little, helpless kitten in our backyard and now they are the best of friends.  

Would I trade this author?  Not for the world!

A Soldier's Tale of Love (Short Story)

 A young Soldiers tale of Love 

It was while on his second tour that he met her. He and some Army buddies had decided to visit a new bar one evening, one that wasn’t a brothel. A bar they had never been to but had been told about by some of the other guys in his unit. They had just sat down when he looked up to place his drink order and there she stood. She was one of the prettiest women he had seen in The Nam. He looked up at her face which was a perfect oval, with high exotic cheekbones set inside her very delicate features. Her thick dark hair, which was so black it reminded him of shiny glass, hung in long oval curves over her slender shoulders and she was dressed in the traditional black silk pajama style pants with a long oriental style top and the back of the top which had a huge gold dragon circling from the back, ending in the front, seemed to set off her slender body and slim hips. He noticed every guy at his table was staring at her as she walked to the bar to fetch their drinks. As she walked away she carried herself with confidence, fully aware of the appreciative glances of the GIs.

As the night wore on his fellow table mates forgot all about the pretty bar maid the more they filled up on drink after drink. But not Steve, he kept looking in her direction all night long and every once in a while she would throw him a glance and a beautiful smile. He wondered if she had noticed him also, but, he thought, she must be used to GIs staring at her and making lewd remarks. He figured she was pretty much immune to that stuff by now and just brushed them off like lint on a uniform.

As the night wore on, the girl made her way over to Steve’s table, he motioned for her to have a seat, after some of his buddies decided to sit at the bar to be closer to the drinks. To his surprise, she smiled and sat down across from him. She spoke perfect English and while he seemed puzzled by this, she explained to him she had been schooled in English while attending a school run by American missionaries. She had an even prettier smile up close, he noticed and her features and clear skin were near perfection. They talked a while and he told her about his plans to try and find a flat to rent because living on the base was too crowded for him anymore. She smiled and told him she just happened to know of a nice little place not far from his base. She explained that she was staying with friends and was trying to save up enough money to rent it, but on a barmaid’s pay, it was taking her longer than she had anticipated. He told her he had some money already saved and she offered to meet him the next day to look at it together. He hung around the bar until closing time and hailed a cab and gave her ride to where she was living. She thanked him, they set a time to meet the next day to look at the flat and then she leaned over and kissed him. Not just a peck either, but a full, on the mouth, several seconds kiss.

The next day he and his new found friend met to look at the flat together. It was small, but cozy and had a small balcony on the back, small but large enough to set a table and a couple chairs on. He told her he liked it and he talked to the landlord and paid the first month’s rent. He asked Chi if she wanted to move in with him, since she was looking for a place too. She smiled and was very eager to do so and said she just needed to go gather up a few things at her friend’s house. Later that day, Steve and Chi moved into the little flat that had a balcony overlooking the Saigon River.

The next few weeks were ecstasy for Steve as Chi was, like most women in Vietnam, adept at making a man feel like he was the most important person in the whole world. Their lovemaking was wonderful. The very first night in their shared flat, Chi heated up some water on the stove and instructed Steve to sit on a high stool she had prepared for him, placing a warmed towel on the seat. She poured the water into a basin and proceeded to wash his naked body, starting with his back, gently washing in small strokes. She worked her way down to his buttocks, then around front to his chest, his legs and then to his feet, carefully washing between each toe very gently. He then stood up, as she instructed and gently dried his naked body and started to apply oils. He felt his manhood rise and he started to reach for her, but she thwarted his advances, gently and proceeded to finish up with the oils. When she had finished applying the oil, she slipped her clothes off, slowly and smiling up at his face the whole time. Then she took his hands and led him to the bed in the corner. Their lovemaking was fierce and she showed him moves he had never experienced before. The lovemaking was so intense at one point, that Steve felt he might pass out, but instead, he felt ecstasy like he’d never felt before.

Afterwards, Chi prepared a dinner of white rice and fish and they took their bowls and glasses filled with rice wine out to the balcony. Steve was feeling this was one of the most perfect moments he had ever remember experiencing in his 19 years of living. He was wishing the moment could last him a lifetime. 

(c) Steve Weathers 2011 all rights reserved

Ladies of the night

Ladies on the corner, ladies adorning the streets
In wartime ladies throwing themselves at your feet
Not many jobs and ladies need to pay rent
Ladies need to survive, ladies need to eat


To young soldiers it's like a buffet
To men at age 18,19,20,21, yes they want to play
Women who are not dumb, they know the deal
Young soldiers, eager to spend their pay
Young soldiers mean a lady's next meal


Some of us to brothels, some to bars
Some to massage parlors, some walk,some drive cars
Ladies all sizes,shapes and to your liking
Young men,just paid, each payday they start hiking


Some fall in love, or so they think
But no marriage certificate
The U.S. government won't waste their ink
No certificate, no visas too
Some soldiers stayed behind,leaving their love won't do


I wonder at times, what happened to those who stay
Are they still around, still happy today?
Do they have regrets, or ever second thoughts?
Have they raised families were they glad they stayed?


I lived with one woman,once, but it was not love
No bands, no fireworks, no lightening from above
Someone to warm the lonely nights
Someone to share the beautiful sights


I ended up having to say goodbye
I even had to tell a white lie
I said maybe to America, with me she might fly
That never happened, we ended up never really saying goodbye


I hope she forgave me, I hope she understood
Why I packed my bags in secret, for her own good
I wasn't in love, maybe ashamed to admit
I don't think I'd have married her,even if I could


Goodbye my lotus, my butterfly
I hope I never made you cry
I can't stand tears, I hate sad goodbyes
When my tour was done, back to the World, I had to fly

Contact me to get your personally signed copy.

A war is still a war

Whether it is to Vietnam or to the Middle East

Soldiers pack their bags to heed the call

Some will survive the tour, while some will fall

It doesn't matter where the call is from

Soldiers take heed when America says: "Come"

A war is still a war

We had a war to 'end all wars'

When will countries stop trying to even the score?

The Big One didn't do the trick to make them cease

Countries still have a problem living at peace

Whether it takes place in a jungle or a desert

A war still calls to its men in arms

Good men will show up to help keep the peace

To stand up for those who cannot protect themselves

Good men will assist those who need their help

Men are saying they don't want to come home just yet

When you feel the job's not done, it's hard for it to set

A job not done, gets inside your bones my Son

In Vietnam we knew, we went home yet there was still no calm

It plays on your mind

You feel you let down the memories of those left behind

You come home, but not alone

You bring ghosts of a war, you seen things you never seen before

That kind of thing, the sights, the smells, the people are in your core

Your civilian loved ones don't understand

Don't understand what you gave up to become a man

You gave up your youth and rose colored glasses

You gave it all up to kick some enemy asses

Loved ones will never fully get how you feel

They ask: "What's wrong, whats the deal?"

You can never fully explain

In the area of war, you're on a different plane

Some people will even peg you as insane

But you know you cannot just return to the mundane

Bless you my Comrades

What you saw, what you will always feel, they don't get;

how sad

But rest assured you did America proud

You were taken from the herd, away from the crowd

It takes a special person to go to those shores

Maybe when it comes to war, America will eventually say: "Nevermore."