David R. “Poppa” Alexander


A cold drizzling rain falling
Sitting in rotted vegetation and mud, in my mind I hear my brothers calling
Amazing how it can be so hot and the rain is cold
Just another day of waiting and a story left untold.

We’ve been here for hours just waiting
The enemy we are supposed to be baiting.
An ambush patrol is not where you let your mind wonder
In this place you are allowed only one blunder.

The rain seems to be pounding without compassion
Maybe I should eat while I can this meager ration
A couple of the guys are in a lower position,
If we move we will compromise our mission.

Squatting cramped here for so long only adds to our grief
Phil is adjusting himself as these conditions steal your strength like a thief,
Another day in this hot humid hell
Is the day-to-day life, and of a story no one will tell.

Finally after eight hours of squatting and waiting
We are told to move about two klicks, the rain isn’t abating
I hear war stories when in base camp told with a romantic flair
But for most days we are bogged down in mud, bugs and despair.

Not that we are looking for a fight
Lord knows as day turns to night
That the one prayer we all have is to draw another breath
And simply live to spend another endless day without a needless death.

So goes the real life on the ground
It isn’t as romantic as some make it sound
To lose another brother in this place
Gets to be just another memory that we must replace.