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 372 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 The PoetBay support member heart!
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