RICK AUNER PHOTOGRAPHS & POETRY |
"CHARGIN' CHARLIE" SIGN AT THE 9TH MARINES HEADQUARTERS NEAR DANANG IN 1965 OR EARLY 1966. THIS PHOTOGRAPH AND THE POETRY BELOW WAS PROVIDED BY RICK AUNER. |
MEMORIAL DAY, 1997 When the evening falls and stillness descends upon the peaceful glen, Then is my heart full with names of far away places and long gone men. The Western horizon is aflame with the sun's ebbing glow, As in thought I return to Vietnam and the men of long ago. Came we in youth's innocence to that land of seemingly endless war and strife, To learn that on a battlefield the victor is the man who carries away his life. For we were but lads, easily led, by politicians' words cruelly deceived, Fought and bled, we died harder than those dreams so foolishly conceived. "In our nation's interest", that was the reason, that was what they said, While true to our own motto, "SEMPER FIDELIS", we fought amidst our dead, Life lost all meaning, our next hour determined by fate's fickly toss of the dice, And we in our dungarees learned the true meaning to that dreadful word, SACRIFICE. Marines were we, first to fight, guarded by us, the streets on Heaven's scene, They were a worthy foe, they who defended hearth and home in the jungle green. Ours was a heritage of honor and glory, we were the finest, our nation's might, They were battle-tested veterans, following Father and Grandfather into the fight. Marines were we, it was our pride to stand to our front and above all else be brave, They were the Gooks and Gooners, with chi-comm ammunition they sent us to our grave. But we gave as good as we got, with Willy Peter and Napalm we replied, Amidst their own rice paddies we did our best to insure that they died. Years ago it all ended, the agony and suffering, with Saigon's fall, Now there is peace in that place where we had gone to heed duty's call. But I have my memories, of youthful faces, their names I forever recall, For we were the faithful and they, those good men, have a place on a wall. "In our nation's interest", the wise and honorable politicians cried, while we, true to our oath, in a far away place, fought and then died. Perhaps next time someone will pause to remember the hell of that foreign scene, For they are all our sons, those who return home in plastic bags of olive green. |
Memorial Day, 1998 Arrived I with the sun, at that place where they for all eternity must sleep, And with the budding dawn, soft breezes rose to dispel the silence so deep. Oh, thought I, how the ray's brilliance makes each marker appear to glow, There in that sun dappled meadow where stand the stones, row upon row. There in silent obedience they lie, answering the bugle's summons to final recall, Rank upon rank, in honored glory, so far from the foreign fields where they did fall. Died they distant from home, youth wasted on a road that but to a grave had led, Alabaster stones brigaded under an azure sky to mark the last camp of the dead. Taken in the full rush of youth, to lie for all time in this place, so silent, so still, With military precision are laid out of graves, Death's own parody of close order drill. That they died in a cause worthy, it must be hoped, for here they must remain, Comrades in company of trusted comrades, our nation's regiment of the slain. But that the evergreens could only speak, to tell of the passing of long years, Willowy pines surrounding the glen, witnessed the shedding of countless tears. A Mother's dreams are never diminished, though her hopes for a son be buried in grief, Time in passing will not quench such a love nor bring with it most welcomed relief. |
RICK AUNER IN VIETNAM 1965 |
RICK ARMED TO THE TEETH....NOTE THE GREASE GUN. |
