It was the Southeast Asia War Games,
Back in 1968.
I never got a T-shirt,
But I finally got a license plate.
We watched for Bouncing Betty.
A Victor Charlie we would hunt.
It was hot and dry and wet and cold,
And I was a Marine Corps Grunt.
There were more vermin squirmin’,
Than a congress while in session.
History is being rewritten.
And the authors never learn a lesson.
We shot, we fought.
We ran, we ducked, we hid.
We carried seventy pounds of crap.
You wouldn’t believe the crap we did.
There were ambushes.
There were firefights in the moonlight.
There was incoming and outgoing.
There were tracers in the night.
Forty years and my life is sewn up,
In a seven lettered license plate.
Participant of the Southeast Asia War Games,
I was Grunt in 68.
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