TO THE MEDICS

We got into a fight the other day and I’ve got a few things
to say.
I was wounded and in pain, not a second too late the medic
came.
The medic eased my pain and calmed my fear, and in his
eye I thought I saw a tear.
For it was this man, no matter where or when, he won’t be
late, it’s to him this poem I dedicate.
I’ve never seen a medic run from mortar, rocket, or
machine gun.
He’ll stay by the wounded’s side and he’ll take it all in
stride.
He tends the wounds as best he can, in this land of
Vietnam.
God bless the medics for the job they do, they saved me
once and they may save you.

Author Unknown

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