Faye Sizemore and Friends


Battlefield angels
coming for to carry me home
I looked over Quang Tri
and what did I see
coming for to carry me home
a band of angels coming for me
coming for to carry me home
the bloods in my eyes
and I can’t see the skies
but I can hear
the ‘thwack… thwack’ of their wings
coming for to carry me home…

Yet they carry me home
then send me back tomorrow
to roam.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

Counting the days to go home
A two-digit idgit with a one-digit figit
Wanting to be carried back home.

©Copyright November 2004 by Roger Liebmann

Waiting for the Freedom Bird
one last flight you pray.
Setting foot on mother soil
hoping to forget the enemy you slay.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

Looking like a swarm of dragonflies
Dragonflies on the hunt, on the prowl
Some with Crossed Calvary Sabers
Some with leering shark mouths
Heavy Hogs, coming in firing everything
Off to the sides, darting like angry hornets
The Cobras lay suppressive fire on all areas
From the trees the troops break and run
A mad dash across the LZ to the flaring Hogs
Gunners firing in deadly suppressive arcs
Troops running for their life, running to the Hogs
Carrying their wounded and dead, they leave no one.
One-One working drag, making sure all are aboard
First one in and last one out, One-One is the last to board
Floorboards awash in blood, wounded men in the doors
In the doors and firing at the approaching enemy
Cries of pain and the stench of death fill the cabin
Death get a free ride home tonight

©Copyright November 2004 by J.J. McCloud

So long to dream of home,
returning to reject it,
Again I was Alone,
Attitudes reflect it.
No welcome! Not expected,
No one to guard my back,
Just a veteran rejected,
Who has what they all lack.
‘Tis the wilderness or collection,
For the outcast with the plague,
For he passes not inspection,
Though the reasons may be vague.
So we start another cult…
The absolute result.

©Copyright November 2004 by Colin F. Jones

Happy to go home
and forget the war.
Yet some memories
came back after a score.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

The Mother soil of home…
home to forgetfulness
and such ungratefulness
as we had never known
Thwack… Thwack…
Coming for to carry me home

I could hear the thwack thwack thwack
but my sight had turned to black
I felt your arms around me
and my blood running down your back
but safe with your arms around me
as you ran towards the LZ
my thoughts were of your safety, brother
as I knew I would soon be free.

©Copyright November 2004 by Eileen Breedlove

I don’t remember boarding the flight,
I don’t recall what was my last sight,
Of the land that has so affected me;
Why, do you suppose, that should be?

©Copyright November 2004 by Thurman P. Woodfork

Silver boxes lined in a row
flag draped waiting to go.
Waiting for the plane
to carry them home.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

A soldier looking to the sky
His last prayer before he dies:
Chaplain says in a low tone
Rest my son you’re going home.

©Copyright November 2004 by Monica L. Murphy

Cutting into acrid smoke filled air
on wings of angels, they hover there
Threads connecting earth and sky above
raise wounded heroes with caring love.
Nose dips, tail lifts to salute the brave
and the angels depart without a wave
as the wounded are tended by the best;
are comforted, hands held to breast
as if to transmit the gift of life
to the heroes who have succumb to strife.
When the screams stop and the tears begin
we know – another soul has passed to Him!

©Copyright November 2004 by Anthony W. Pahl

On Angel wings he is carried
to the hereafter
and soon to be buried.
He’s going home.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

He steps on golden shores
Never another night alone
He touches the nail scarred hand
And the gentlest voice says “Welcome Home.”

©Copyright November 2004 by Mary E. Rogers

Back home the church bells ringing
Lets a hometown know;
A family is mourning
a soldier is going home.

©Copyright November 2004 by Monica L. Murphy

Bended heads of remembrance
As the angels send their condolences
Hear the roar of the heartbreak
As he’s led to lie in his homeland

©Copyright November 2004 by Ann-Marie Spittle

Family and friends
all dressed in black.
Handkerchiefs in hand
as tears fall upon the ground.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

Be they of steel or mystical flesh
wherever brave soldiers do roam
… there are always angels
coming for to carry them home

It is said there are no sorrows
for those who’ve gone ahead
no concern for their tomorrows
no knowledge blood is red

no suffering, regret, and no more pain
no demons in the night
no darkness, heat, or drowning rain
will greet their final flight

©Copyright November 2004 by Randy E. Richmond

On silken wings they will go
into the shining light.
Then home they’ll be
floating with the clouds

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg

I hear the sound of shattered flight
see silver wings on Troopers proud,
the haunting sounds of bugles bright,
o’er caskets covered by centered crowd,
to bear our soldier home.


He sleeps at last among the brave,
interred in death in warriors grave,
with marble stone to mark his head,
he lies amongst our nations dead,
but we who stay will mark this time,
remember when on Company’s line,
the hand of fate addressed us all,
and chose who lived and who should fall… a Reckoning.

©Copyright November 2004 by Mike Subritzky

Please don’t shed those tears for me
For I do not wish to cause you pain;
I look down now with subdued glee
And hum to myself an old refrain.

Jesus laughs at the ‘3rd Army Band’;
He forgives us all that bawdy song,
And waits to offer his gentle hand
When it’s your time to come along.

©Copyright November 2004 by Thurman P. Woodfork

Look over yonder, now what do I see
coming for to carry them home
If you listen real close
‘thwack… thwack’ of their wings
coming for to carry them home
A platoon went down
and they no longer sing…
coming for to carry them home

©Copyright November 2004 by Linda M. Luther

The blood has stopped and my vision has cleared
The ‘thwack… thwack’… is still heard
I can see the faces in the windows
as they swoop in close by to land
They are familiar gone on brothers…
now members of a Heavenly Dust Off Band
They return taking me to join others
… lost from war in this bloody land
Even though they have now gone on…
they are coming for to carry me home

I hear the sound of Soldiers music
Playing from so far away
With each second of passing time
The music becomes louder
And my last day becomes today
The silent Soldier blows Taps for me
The Angel carries me to my brothers
I no longer bleed
For today I died a Soldier’s death
I am Freedom
I am now free

©Copyright November 2004 by Ruby Alexandra Beloz

A glorious reunion
on heavens shores
brothers and sisters
who fought many wars
A place of healing
and comfort for all
in God’s greatest kingdom
each Soldier stands tall.

©Copyright November 2004 by Eileen Breedlove

Yet as time passes on
the sound of drums can be heard
as the three Horsemen mount
their mighty steeds.
Time has come again
to make mortal man bleed.

©Copyright November 2004 by Steve Brandenburg