"In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields."
He told me that he was lying in a wet, muddy foxhole in the Ardennes one night under a heavy bombardment by German artillery. The shells were exploding all around, people were dying on both sides of him. He was scared, real scared. "I told the Lord that if He'd just get me out of that foxhole and back to Texas, I'd be his servant from then on. He got me out of there somehow." For people my age, our entire lives and thought processes were forever altered by Viet Nam. Nothing was ever the same after that. The war was the straw that caused many of us to stop believing the Big Lie, stop believing that the government omnisciently knew what was right for us, that it could be trusted come hell or high water. I went to a high school that graduated 550 people in 1968.
Resale Concert Tickets
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
I go back and look at the names of my classmates who died in Viet Nam once in a while. It is always sobering. And it hurts me to the core of my soul to know that there are homeless Viet Nam vets begging on street corners and sleeping under bridges. They made it home, but many of them truly never made it back in their minds.
Now I've had a daughter who has been in the Air Force for the past 13 years. Her war was Afghanistan. I still remember how changed she was when she got back, how hard it was to settle her down, to get that high-strung, always alert look out of her eyes. But she weathered it well. Three days from now, Friday the 13th, will be her last day on active duty. I wish it could be the last day for all these kids to whom, no matter what we think about the wars we are in, we owe an incalculable debt of gratitude. May Iraq and Afghanistan put us out of the business of war once and for all.