Fed up with school and gang wars on
Philly streets,thought the jungles of Viet Nam
Would be the perfect retreat,
After all, he had been shot at by nearly
Everyone in town or so it seemed,
He thought that a rumble in the jungle would
At least, if nothing else, be a change of scenery,
Someone once told him, he can't remember who,
"Boy, the Army will be good for you!"
You'll get to travel the world,
Explore beautiful distant lands,
Learn about strange and unusual cultures,
Meet exotic people and Kill the!
Kill them?
He said, "hey man, wouldn't that be a crime?"
"Heck no boy, are you crazy?
Uncle Sam does that kind of thing all the time."
Seventeen years old,
War, in the streets he had already met,
So, the war in Viet Nam wasn't anything
That would cause him to fret,
He signed up and became a U.S. Army Medic,
91-B-20 eventually became his M.O.S.,
That was clearly evident by the Combat Medical Badge
That he wore with pride upon his chest,
Many saw but just couldn't believe,
An eighteen year old,
With Sargent stripes sewed upon his sleeves,
Some have described his job as a suicide mission,
His rap was... if a dude can't stand the heat,
Then he needs to back on up and stay out if the kitchen,
Running about the battlefield with a bayonet, hand grenades,
45 caliber ACP model 1911 pistol, Colt M-16 rifle with
A medical aid bag strapped to his hip,
As the medic runs about attending to the wounded,
Everyone else lays down a base of fire and takes cover
When rounds are coming in,
This is when the medic's duties begin,
Loss a lot of blood, convulsive, going into shock,
Life just about gone, time running out on the clock,
The morphine kicks in and helps ease the pain,
Now... it would really be nice if someone could stop
The gun fire and mortars from falling like rain,
