He didn’t see the NVA
About to cut him down that day
I had the angle on that hill
Today was my turn to call, “Still”.
A single second passed me by
I raised my weapon to my eye
I took aim past my Brother’s head
And suddenly was filled with dread
Inside it took eternity
To weigh the possibility
I could be off a single inch
And what if he should breathe or flinch?
I’d always figured the tough spot
Would be the one who might get shot
But now I questioned what I’d do
I wished I stood in C.J.’s boots
I felt myself squeeze off the round
I smelled the powder, heard the sound
The shot passed right by C.J.’s ear
The Regular was gone, “All clear”.
C.J. took a look at me
Then shrugged and moved out, fearlessly
I wiped my face and closed up ranks
Not knowing how to pray my thanks
It was another month or more
A whispered word, to me a roar
C.J.’s voice, a baritone
“Still” he said, I froze like stone.
©Copyright May 13, 2004 by Tim Bone
This poem inspired “Combat…” ©Copyright May 21, 2005 by Anthony W. Pahl