To Jim, my brother, you told me many times that your visits to Vets in the hospitals and your performance of your pinning service for many was the first acknowledgement of their service and brought tears to their eyes. May anyone who reads this poem find peace and acknowledgement of their service to this country. And thank you for your service. I love you man. Joe
Bury Me With Soldiers
I've played a lot of roles in life;
I've met a lot of men.
I've done some things I'd like to think
I wouldn't do again.
And though I'm young, I'm old enough
To know someday I'll die,
And think about what lies beyond,
Beside whom I would lie.
Perhaps it doesn't matter much;
Still, if I had my choice,
I'd want a grave 'mongst soldiers when
At last death quells my voice.
I'm sick of the hypocrisy
Of lectures by the wise.
I'll take the man, with all his flaws,
Who goes, though scared, and dies.
The troops I know were commonplace;
The didn't want the war;
They fought because their fathers and
Their fathers had before.
They cursed and killed and wept -- God knows
They're easy to deride --
But bury me with men like these;
They faced the guns and died.
It's funny, when you think of it,
The way we got along.
We'd come from different worlds
To live in one no one belongs.
I didn't even like them all;
I'm sure they'd all agree.
Yet I would give my life for them,
I hope; some did for me.
So bury me with soldiers, please,
Though much maligned they be.
Yes, bury me with soldiers, for
I miss their company.
We'll not soon see their like again;
We've had our fill of war.
But bury me with men like them
Till someone else does more.
--Rev. Charles R. Fink
(formerly Sgt. in the 199th Lt. Infantry Brigade Vietnam 3/69-3/70)