"Lonely Soldier"

Surrounded by the enemy, with no place to go.

Rifle butts and fists, inflicting horrible pain.

Reality came so quickly, how was I to know?

I stand to lose it all, without a thing to gain.

Quickly my family flashes, against the terror and fear.

Mother, Dad and Junior, what will they ever think?

Shirley and the babies, what awful news they'll hear.

Drastic change has come, in just a moments wink.

Forced marches were routine, they became pure hell.

There was no relief, for my wretched burning feet.

Sores gathered swiftly, they oozed a putrid smell.

Malaria and Dengue Fever, tried to hasten my defeat.

Hemp around my elbows, my arms suffering so dearly.

Isolation and hunger, ravaged my fragile soul.

Hope dwindled rapidly, as monthly turned to yearly.

My life tried to ebb, so living became my goal.

Migrating from cage to cave, always on the move.

Where I was being herded, only God would really know.

Resistance began to weaken, I had nothing left to prove.

Who was I to impress, with some brave gallant show?

I still cherish that day, when I finally saw Garcia.

Many months of suffering, but he still had a smile.

Silver and Bronze Stars, he had won them in Korea.

He was a proud old Sergeant, who'd been in for a while.

It still hurts my soul, whenever I ponder his fate.

Infection and diarrhea, had taken their ugly toll.

When medicine finally arrived, it was a week too late.

I buried him with honors, there upon a rising knoll.

Rumors came filtering down, in early Seventy Three.

Of a large prisoner release, up north towards Hanoi.

Keen to sights and sounds, I knew there still was war.

I had given up on trust, my enemy was awfully coy.

Then one day came silence, it was early Seventy Five.

Celebrations of victory, my captors could not hide.

The stillness made me wonder, did they know I was alive?

Great slaughter was to follow, it was hard to abide.

Death was all around me, the "Puppets" were being purged.

They told of our withdrawal, it was difficult to believe.

I had to watch my allies, who one by one were scourged.

Life had become a thread, my past was hard to retrieve.

Treatment started to improve, a welcome consolation.

Wounds began their healing, which brought ample relief.

I pray to my God daily, with appreciable anticipation.

Hoping He will reward me, for my perennial belief.

The war is obviously over, I have no place to go.

Much has been forgotten, where is my joyful past?

Mom and Dad may have died, it hurts to miss them so.

Even provided the chance, I probably wouldn't ask.

Thoughts of Shirley are fading, where could she be today?

She could not be expected, to wait these many years.

My heart has become so hollow, what could I even say?

Visions of my children, fill me with anguish and tears.

Will they ever come a marching, to free my soul at last?

I'm tired of propaganda, but maybe they are right.

Perhaps I am a criminal, and suffer for my past.

Thoughts I must avoid, as I continue my daily plight.

Twenty five years have gone, so quickly before my eyes.

How slowly they have passed, since that fateful day.

The sun sets every evening, there is no new surprise.

As a scared little child, I have surely lost my way.

Jesus is my only hope, throughout this time of pain.

He's met me many a night, to comfort my weary soul.

Montagnards He has sent, to lift me again and again.

They sneak me Bible verses, to make my life seem whole.

Although I am held captive, my spirit still soars free.

There is a life hereafter, His medicine is my cure.

Even though man's so evil, God's Spirit comforts me.

And I know without a doubt, that His love for me is pure.

Michael A. Harris 11/12/92

Revised 3/14/98