The Invisible Vets
by Leonard Raines
If you’re willing to listen one more time
to the old songs of the red, white and blue.
Then I’ll tell you a tale (and I’ll try to regale)
and I swear every word to be true.
There is no beginning and there is no end
to the story I now must confess.
There is only the middle where the old ghosts live
and their house is a hell of a mess.
They called these old ghosts patriots
when war drums sounded their tattoos.
Oh, it was good to implore ‘em with a hero’s decorum
when they served the old red, white and blue.
.....
Then the war was over and the dead were gone
and only the living remained.
To pick up the pieces and carry on
at the outskirts of nowhere and sane.
....
Now they live in darkness wrapped in cardboard lives
that resemble someone from their youth.
And each day they must strive for their souls to survive
for their voices are now mostly mute.
Yes, this hero’s tale is a hard thing to tell
to an ear unaccustomed to pain.
But for those who will listen, listen well,
for there is much in the telling to gain.
Call these shadows The Invisible Vets
for they’re not really here anymore.
Oh, they’re walking and talking but mostly they’re marking
time ‘till death’s at the door.
....
The invisible vet is a woman or man who has
slept in the pouring rain.
Through the tears and the years and incredible fears
on the outskirts of nowhere and shame.
.....
They were there at the death march in stinking Bataan
then crossed the wide river, Elbe.
And although frozen they fought on at the Chosin
that reservoir of blood and of hell.
At Heartbreak Ridge they did their best as they did at
Hue and Khe Sanh.
Were you riding with them in the chopper my friend
on a hill called 881?
But they didn’t just fight they drove trucks and they typed
and they served up the mail and the chow.
Did you see them there behind the lines?
in truth do you see them now?
....
The Invisible Vets march through history
and their stories are always the same.
Quick step to the rear when peacetime is here
and to the outskirts of nowhere remain.
....
Did you see the young nurses on the landing pads
when the birds full of wounded arrived?
At such tender years they cried a river of tears
choosing who was to live and to die.
They came back home so shattered
by the memories of horrors they’d seen.
Then the nation ignored them and failed to reward them
as if it had all been a dream.
The Invisible Vets cry sometimes in the night
but no one answers their call.
Through the decades of strife that has been their lives
through the drugs and the alcohol.
....
Will no one listen and answer their plea?
Can anyone ease this pain?
Reach out in the darkness to the invisible vets
who the outskirts of nowhere sustain.
....
While watching the news at dinner one night
did you see them in the sands of Kuwait?
To decide wrong from right they were there for the fight
in a land not their own but their fate.
And this fate goes on like it always does
when the battle flags are folded.
They go back to their homes where they’re mostly alone
and for their best efforts they’re scolded.
They’re marked down from heroes to whiners
when they seek out promises due.
Now the hill they must climb the nation has mined
but they still love the red, white and blue.
....
With their youth long past and their deeds forgot
and when only the hurt remains.
The Invisible Vets, well, they march on
to the outskirts of nowhere and blame.
....
The Invisible Vets were the sailors
and they were proud to be Marines.
With the Air Force they flew and to the Army were true
and the crew of the Coast Guard esteem.
As you gather tonight with your family,
and kneel in your faith to pray.
Give thanks for the work that you choose to do
and for your freedoms and blessings today.
But for a moment think of that woman or man
whose still paying off your debts.
And in that moment praise the Lord
and thank The Invisible Vets!
....
But to thank them proper you’ll have to go
outside in the pouring rain .
Look for a woman or man who has done all they can
on the outskirts of courage and fame.
Copyright 2000 by Leonard Raines
to comment directly to Mr. Raines
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Kent M. Herrick, Editor in Chief, 2011
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