The Sweetest Sound

By Ernest Tucker,
Scout / Sniper, Viet Nam, Chapter 776

Not songs of choice nor lover's voice will ever compare
     to the sweet sound of rotor blades as they beat
         through thick humid air.

I am a Viet Nam vet, I served in the Infantry
      the word Grunt refers to men like me.

I've seen war at its worst and men at their best
     sadly I've wrapped brothers in ponchos and
         sent them to their final rest.

Now many years later as I lie here in bed
      the visions come back to race through my head.

The scars on my body will forever remain
      as I touch them, once again I feel the pain.

Once again I find myself on the ground
      with blood.
          My blood. 
              All around.

As I lay there in unconscionable pain and fear
      came the sweet sound of rotor blades as my 
                  Dust Off drew near.

When at long last I reach my final day.
     I will look back on my life and say,

I've heard beautiful songs of choice and the
       Sweetness in my lover's voice.
       And yet these cannot compare

To the sweet, sweet sound of rotor blades
    As they beat through thick humid air.