Charles S. Johnson

FIVE YOUNG MEN

Five young men standing in front of a red clay hill
Once this hill was green, had trees, vines, plants
Now it’s just a red clay hump with sticks, rough dirt, logs
But it has been consecrated with the blood of warriors

These five men had friends who died on that hill
Others who added their red blood to the red of the clay
This hill that was once held by the enemy, now ours
Now we hold it, having paid for it with the lives of the young

Five men standing there, now matured through hard combat
Aged beyond their years by things beyond their control
They have seen war and it has thoroughly marked them
Memories will come to them of this from now until time’s end

Each of them finally returned from over there
To go their separate ways, to live the rest of their lives
Who knows what awaits them from now until time ends
Things can never be as before, too much has happened

These five were only boys when they came over here
This war, which we weren’t allowed to win, made them men
A war which we were forced to fight with a severe handicap
It has turned these boys into men with eternal nightmares

We have become men, and women, who trust almost no one
People who question authority, refuse to conform to the norm
Who cannot sleep all the way through a night
Ones who sit with our backs to the wall, watching, waiting

These five are representative of all of us: white, black, brown
A language is created by us and this war, only we understand it
It was made up of necessity to explain what we saw, what we are
Created so that we will know our own, trust them only

One of the five is my friend, met over the Net
We know each other through an ethereal contact
We each speak the language, recognize a brother
Share stories, experiences, form a bond

We are Veterans who have spent our time in Hell
Returned to our country and not been accepted
Shunned by people who are afraid of what we are
Misunderstood by those who refused their duty

But we have served our Country, done our duty
Almost nine million of us experienced this war
Almost sixty thousand of us died over there
Nearly three thousand of us are not accounted for

Now our Country, at least the politicians, forget us
We are the ones who enable protestors to protest
Writers to criticize us, politicians to cheat us out of our rights
But we have our Brotherhood to help us fight them all

For, in the future, there will be a time when they need us again
And these five young men who characterize us all will be there
Our Spirit, our sense of Duty, our Honor cannot be denied
So we shall again stand in front of red hills, unbowed.

Author’s Note: Dedicated to Jim Logan