Some of us were warriors
and some of us were cowards.
Some of us fought for glory
and others for survival.
Some of us knew the reasons;
but most of us knew better.

Some of us were there by choice;
but most of us by decree.
The seasoned ones had known why,
but the young ones never would.
After a while we all knew it really didnít matter.

All of us became kindred;
a handful far less than that.
And the ones who had it worst
was every last one of us!
Although every one of us
was always too scared to know.

Too many feel guilt and shame,
and too few pride and honor.
Too many fought too bravely;
too few had the sense to run.
Too few made it home alive,
and too many never did.

For duty was our thesis
and patriotism our code.
Yet all of us knew the price
Our service was called to pay.
But no one knew the reqards
the home front waited to serve.

They declared it on the news
and at every stateside port:
We were killers and butchers
and not the sons of freedom.
So we were greeted with scorn
and showered with apathy.

Yet despite the passing years
and the revisions of time,
We all had two enemies
and they came f rom either side.
Although the one should have known
which side all of us were on.

By: Patrick P. Stafford