That poem made me recall a Iver Johnson

I inherited a rand Father's single-shot shotgun.

He re-blued the pitted bore and built a cherry stock.

The open-barrel could be used if you want to inhale pot.

That's was the old idea - Shotgun Inhale - in Vietnam Days.

A First Air Calvary were rumored to do shotguns with M-16's.


~
LT said 60% of my 1/12 D- Co were blown away after I was shot.

GI's were shooting each other accidently and shooting foots off.

Grunts can't hump-the-bush with one foot blown away. Honest.

I remember new PFC shot his foot. A CO would not call chopper.

He wept all night. He had nightmares the first night in the jungle.
`
He woke up sad with fat lip, broken tooth, O purple swollen eyes.

The GI's in his squad punched him silly. He give a position away?

huh?

That's how they justified beating a PFC to a pulp. War is insane.

I felt sorry/sad the moment I got dumped in `Nam. Ay, Dooms.

Later I discovered I landed the same day as the lunar landing.
`
P.S.
Thanks
I was sad
I was only gonna write that I spent two-weeks on the island of Crete in the 70's.
I remember the Ferry Ride from Athens, Greece. People danced. Ay, a Musical.
`
I wonder where that singleshot Iver Johnson went? Stolen. Who stole my pipe?
Some person in the rear area stole my antique - carved ivory - beautiful bowl.
I go on forever.
I almost missed.
My PM's get lost.
They go to spams.
They never works.
I best go get mules.
`
One sad thing comes to Memory.
I'm told I was on a Threat List.
S. Brian Wilson told me This:
`
When we spoke against war in the eighties Brian (not the singer) etc., were placed on list:
`
A Treat To Domestic Security.
I was with Brian in Wash/DC.
I returned dusty war medals.

S. Brian Wilson lost two-legs.
Reagan's train ran over Brian.
I could go on and on. O, shush