Image courtesy of Australian War Memorial from Wikimedia.

 

The method of selction for National Service in Vietnam was by picking birthdays.




Conscript

  Bazza and I both rolled the dice,

  with the numbers our birthdays,

  partners in that unlucky lottery.

When it landed I was the one free,

  but for him it meant the army.

Some years later I met him again

   both drinking in the same pub,

  so, I thought we might catch up

       the years lost in between;

           then I saw his eyes –

          and what they’d seen.

 

          © D G Moody 2022





Poetry by D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 102 times
Written on 2022-04-07 at 10:38

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it made me think of a very good film about Vietnam when one soldier plays the Russian roulette. I can't remember the name of the film
2022-04-18


Alan J Ripley
Sometimes the blankness of the stare, Dead eye's
Shows the horrors within. As well as someone who cared.
Powerfully sad, Nicely done. Dougie.
Alan
2022-04-09


Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Ooh. Devastating, and all the more so because understated. Very good poem, sir.
2022-04-08


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Spot on.
2022-04-07


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A fine vignette, Dougie.
2022-04-07


D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
Yrs Allen, the 'thousand mile stare' if I recall correctly.
2022-04-07


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
.... and the eyes were in the head of what the army had made him become. I had to add that thought of mine which erupted after I read your precise and emotive poem. The fact that you saw what you saw, just demonstrates that such a life as a soldier might live through is juts not damn natural!
2022-04-07