Somewhere in Vietnam, September first Dear, Mom and Dad We mustve marched twenty miles today Through the rain and the mud And believe it or not This is the first opportunity Ive had to sit down and Write in two or three weeks Thisll have to be short But I just wanted to send my love And let you know that Im doing fine But you know, just being here And seeing how close these people Are to losing their freedom Makes me that much more determined To help win this war Cause if we dont, the next battlefield May be closer to home than Vietnam Must close for now, all my love Your son, Bud P.S., hows Tommy doing At State University Tell him his big brother said hello State University, September first Hi, Dad, we must have Marched twenty blocks today And, baby, Im beat I mean, like the sign I was carrying got real heavy But, Dad, everything was out of sight There were recorders and Photographers and cameraman From every major news Service and network in the nation So look for your baby boys picture On the front page of todays paper Of course, you might have a Little trouble recognizing me With my groovy beard But, Dad, I know were right How can you defend my brother Murdering all those people overseas So what if the Communists Do take over in South Vietnam Why, just today Our economics professor assured us That people get along Just as well under communism As they do under Any other form of government Im sorry, Dad But this God and country bit Just isnt my bag Gotta go, dad, big rally tonight Your son, Tommy P.S., Dad better send me an Extra fifty bucks this week, dig Dear Mr. and Mrs. Smith I know you must be awfully Proud of your fine son I wish I could be there to See you recieve Buds medal of honor It may comfort you to know That his last thoughts were of you And as his sergeant I can truthfully say He was one of the bravest men I have ever known Dear Mom and Dad Its been some time Since I received word about Bud Somehow I just didnt have The nerve to come home But Ive done a lot of thinking since then About my turned on friends and About what they said about communism We were all wrong And you know, I always just worship Bud Now that Ive thought it over, I know That he would never fight for something Unless he believed in it With all of his heart And in spite of all my past mistakes I hope that somehow, someday I can become as big in your eyes As my brother will always be Your son, Private Tommy Smith
dad, bud, tommy, vietnam, communism