It’s been more than 30 years since Nam. It’s been about 20 years since the Wall went up, but this is my first time visiting it. Right now, my nephew, Robin, is headed to Kuwait, and probably soon, Iraq, for another war.

I’m sitting in the middle of nowhere, on a hill looking toward the horizon. No tripod, just crossed legs and my elbows resting on my knees, holding an old camera filled with darkroom film.

He carries his equipment

He carries his uniform

He carries his ammunition

And his weapons

But he carries much more

He carries his heart

His memories

Though most importantly

A soldier dies on the battlefield on a beach in Normandy just barely old enough to shave and

just off papas knee buried in the ground with theses final words

[Chorus]

Dear ma and pa im doin fine here overseas I send my love from me and John and the

We are all rugged people,

and through out soft degrees.

Many a mean have shouted,

Many have fallen too their knees.

We think we’re at war with others,

But wrong because we are at war

with ourselves,

Life to all, the empty promise

I’ve found something new

Take your script and watch it slip through

Cracks so obvious

Rain floods the trenches on a cold darkened night,

And the battle drags on. How long must they fight?

Rats grow fat as they feast on the dead.

The constant shell impacts get to the head.

You keep your bayonet close, and your eye on no-man’s-land,

The peace the nations had promised

Some days that were gold

Now all fade into stardust

Disappearing with the old

Screams thickened the air,

A scene taken from a nightmare,

Flames licked through the dry grass,

Tribe members pounded the ground, fleeing,

Rifles blasting, the sound deafening,

I hid in my hut,

Peering through the window,