A CAP Veteran's Wife
Submitted by: Marsha Locke
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A CAP Veteran's Wife
Submitted by: Marsha Locke |
Subject: CAP Website
Date: Wed, 04 Mar 1998 12:47:06 -0800
Dear Tim,
I am the wife of a Vietnam Marine Veteran. He was with the CAP unit in '69-'70. He suffers from PTSD, and I am constantly searching for any help to bring him all the way back. I would like to offer these poems in hopes that they may help another vet or their wives.
Thank you for a great site.
Marsha Locke
ENDLESS NIGHT
I sit alone and watch the lights that are passing in the street,
It’s 5AM, not an unusual time, as of yet; I’ve had no sleep.
Afraid of everything that moves and thoughts that enter my mind,
but dawn will break eventually and then I know GOD is kind.
I wonder what the horrors were and how he survived them there,
with no one but the dying young and foreigners to care.
Who is this man who touched my heart in a way no other could do?
This man I call my husband is a stranger to me too!
The day we met he told me he was a crazy through and through.
A card carrying member of the crazy club and he had paid his due.
I looked into those telling eyes and asked him to look around,
we’re all a little crazy..., in public, we abound.
A relationship was started and his love just began to beam,
until one night it all began, he was only building steam.
As if the government had done this thing to test him for his life,
for now he lives with the memories that cause us both such strife.
I’m luckier than some wives, I guess, he talked to me at first,
until the drugs were gone from him and he no longer felt he was going to burst.
He’d needed them, or so they said, but the outcome was not clear,
he couldn’t remember what to take and it froze me with fear.
A pill to wake, a pill to sleep, and many in-between, they never worked the same,
I tried to make him understand this wasn’t just a game.
He stopped them all in 15 days and a new person began to appear,
the one I fell in love with, the man I hold so dear!
We began the healing process, it’s never over you know!
I still can see his anguish and see him fight his foe.
He gave so much but yet has more to give,
Please God, and this country...just let him live!
I stay awake to let him sleep, someone must always be on watch,
in case another incident the government might botch.
I’ll never understand it all, in some ways, I’m very glad you see,
I only want the man I know, the one that he can be!
LIVING IN VIETNAM
Another day has broken, will it be the same as the last?
More outbursts and anguish, all stemming from the past.
The man I love is living in Vietnam today,
for this I say with honesty, is the price that he must pay.
I’ve held his trembling body in the wee hours of the night,
while in his head is raging another fire fight.
His hands are shaking horribly, his pores are oozing sweat,
for people I can not imagine and the horrors that he’s met.
A trip abroad, what a great adventure, with memories that last.
All funded by the government, an then your futures cast.
How could they take this man of mine and allow what’s happened now,
where was his help when he first came back, before he was dinky dow.
I’ve picked up some of the language, I hear it often enough,
he speaks it in his sleep at night, along with other stuff.
How can I understand what to do, I love him is all I know,
but he will continue to travel to places I’ll never go.
For his journey now is earmarked with a destination set,
he’s trying to get back from HELL, would be a safe bet.
Sometimes, he’s right here with me, then much to my surprise,
a faded memory surfaces and his emotions just arise.
He’s angry over nothing, he’s hypervigilant they say,
don’t walk up and touch him ‘cause there’s a price to pay.
He’s always so sorry, I’ve come to know Sin Loi,
What on God’s earth could have happened to ruin this boy.
So every day we try a little harder to enter each others world,
to soften up the memories and help them to unfurl.
To make a place for those memories, so no one will forget,
and to stop his living daily with nothing but regret.
We’ve come a long way in a few short years,
but it wasn’t without a bucket of tears.
He’s a classic case for the governments files,
they classified each one of his trials.
As Clinton continues with his constant cutbacks,
here’s just one more vet who would fall through the cracks.
if it weren’t for the God he’s lost faith in for so long,
he wouldn’t be here to remember the Viet Cong.
Just Another Vietnam Wife, February 1998
JUST ANOTHER BUDDY
He ran into a buddy, they never had met,
but when you fight in a war, that’s how you get.
They weren’t in the same unit, nor in the same years,
but they both understand each other’s tears.
They speak to each other like they’ve been friends since birth,
the thing they have in common is where they’ve been on this earth,
the weapons they carried, the men that they killed, the strange foods that they ate,
all brought them today to share the same fate.
There is a trust that is instant, unnaturally extended.
It’s never just faked or assumed it’s pretended.
There’s nothing these guys wouldn’t do for each other,
but what would you expect from someone you call brother!
It doesn’t matter what uniform they wore during their course,
The Army, the Navy, Marines or Air Force.
It matters not in what war that they fought.
They speak of the battles and the shrapnel they caught.
Tattoos are a big thing that bonds them together,
they’ll strip down in public, like birds of a feather.
They recognize the standard, the promise, the brotherhood,
like only someone who’d been there possibly could.
I sometimes get jealous of a closeness I will never feel,
but this is just one thing with which I must deal.
Most of the time I take pride in my knowing,
that I’m gaining understanding and constantly growing.
It’s a whole other world, I knew nothing about,
even though my own brother, took the same route.
But you don’t know a man until you’ve looked into his head,
and it sure doesn’t hurt to sleep in his bed.
For it’s in his dreams that the truth really comes out,
where he has been and what he’s about.
He’s a soldier, no matter what you see,
and no matter what, he will always be!
Just another Vietnam Wife, February 1998
HE WAS MEANT TO BE A SOLDIER
By: Marsha Locke, Just Another Vietnam, Vet #146's Wife
He was meant to be a soldier from the day that he was born.
Like pages from a holy book, his now are tattered and some are torn.
It was bred in him from generations ago, a gene in every bone,
as surely as the commandments were etched out in pure stone.
He was meant to be a soldier and he’ll pass it down the line,
this freedom seeking fighter, that God has made so fine.
The physical war is over, or this is what they say,
but this soldier has a lifetime of battles yet to pay.
He was meant to be a soldier, just stop him on the street,
and ask about his country, then prepare to take a seat.
He loves the values he holds dear, you can’t wrong him for that,
and if you contradict him, he’ll tell you where it’s at.
He was meant to be a soldier, his guts are made of barb wire,
he’ll always be there for you, he’ll not desert you under fire.
His memories are vivid of what happened thirty years ago,
but don’t ask him about yesterday, he remembers very slow.
He was meant to be a soldier, he can drink his weight in booze,
you’ll never see him miss a step and never have to snooze.
He can stand up straight for hours, never asking to sit down,
while in his head, the war goes on and continues to just pound.
He was meant to be a soldier, his life is proof of that,
the good he’s done, he’s done for all, never asking for a pat.
He gives the impression of perfect order, in his dress and in his style,
the only clue you get of more can be seen within his smile.
He was meant to be a soldier, always reading between the lines,
always seeking out the enemy, never knowing what he finds.
It appears he has a lot of friends, but this is just not so,
he has respect for who he is, someplace no one else can go.
He was meant to be soldier, just listen when he speaks,
the warrior, the patriot, the idealist, of all of this he reeks.
Don’t judge him for his mortal wrongs, don’t think you know his calling,
you were not there with him when his comrades all had fallen.
He was meant to be soldier, ask anyone who knows him,
he’ll always be a soldier, even when his lights are dim.
A special place will be prepared for him, on this you can rely,
a special place in heaven, reserved for this GI.
He was meant to be a soldier, and put up a good fight,
and when it’s judgment day, he won’t sit on God’s right.
He’ll stand in front to serve and protect, just like he’s always done,
and maybe just this one last time, he won’t have to clean his gun.
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