Flight,

I got this from the VHFCN list and thought it was worth a read by all.

Tom Gator 851.

The Other Things We Carry
Ron Leonard

It's been 35 years since a Huey's whine
And midnight missions in the nick of time

It's been 35 years since a claymore mine
And ground attacks so clear in our mind.

And only yesterday it was 69

We carried Ammo, and Rockets, and beer, and mail
We carried body bags that would make you wail
We carried friends in our arms, as we turned pale
We carried buckets of water to wash out blood stale

We carried medals of valor for feats unbelieved
We carried purple hearts for wounds we received

But most of all we carried each other

Today we carry other things, some real, some imagined

We carry cancer of every kind known to man
Agent Orange poisoning, and malaria, and Lymphomia, and Diabetes, and
Hepatitis C,
And many still have PTSD.

We carry arms with no hands, and legs with no feet, and scars both mental
and real.
We carry crutches and walkers, and wheelchairs and canes, with honor its no
big deal.

We carry horror stories of the Veterans Administration, of six months waits,
and lack of funds, and shoddy care, of indifferent employees, and crummy
food, and broken promises and downright lies.

But we still carry each other

We carry memories from the past, and pictures of our youth, and through it
all still have our dignity.
For many it is all we have.

Now and then, there are times when panic will set in and we have hideous
dreams,
And people squeal, they twitch and make moaning sounds, and cover their
heads and say "Dear God", and hug the pillow and cringe and beg for the
dreams to stop, and make stupid promises to themselves and God and their
wives, hoping they will all go away, but they don't.

But we still carry each other.

We carry the weight of shattered dreams, and broken marriages, and deformed
children with insidious wounds, and twisted faces, and deformed legs, and
broken spines, lost for all time.

We carry the thoughts of the future, of honor and duty, and pride, and
tradition.

We carry fear for our children in far off lands,
The outcome can only be in Gods hands

The midnight runs as the Huey whines,
The rescue missions in the nick of time,

The muffled blast of a claymore mine,
And only yesterday it was 69.

But we still carry each other.