Wednesday, November 6, 2013


In honor of Veterans’ Day, I am going to use the next couple of entries for a couple of my war-related poems. Many of the emotions that I felt in Vietnam are the same things impacting veterans no matter when or where they served.

The military is a place where you grow up fast. You learn about how politics impacts senior leadership and how bureaucracies basically don’t care about anything except covering their ass. But you also build strong relationships with a lot of the people with whom you serve. Most of us also have periods when we would rather be anywhere else.

I wrote Vietnam Daydreams-1968 (Daydreams, 2004) when we were on patrol about thirty miles off of Haiphong, there were 300 aircraft flying over North Vietnam and I Corps, and the politicians were making up insane rules of engagement that were driving us all crazy. We worked closely with the pilots who were putting their lives on the line every day, and feeling the frustration that comes from a mainstream media and political leadership that had no clue what was happening in the real world.

I get the feeling that some of that is going on right now in Afghanistan. Some things never change.

Glenn K. Currie


                                              Vietnam Daydreams-1968


                                                I want a house in Georgia,

                                                With a big screen porch out back,

                                                A squeaking double rocker,

                                                And a friendly mongrel cat.


                                                Where rain falls in gentle cadence,

                                                Tapping code upon the roof,

                                                Messages with food for thought,

                                                Washed down with 100 proof.


                                                Hank and the Braves on radio,

                                                Played with a love for the game,

                                                Evening news a weather debate,

Between sunny skies and rain.


                                                The darkness only a stage,

                                                To frame a million stars,

                                                Crickets playing background,

                                                To Jupiter and Mars.


                                                No thunder in the distance,

                                                No glow along the hills,

                                                No tracers lighting chaos,

                                                No counting up the kills.









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