Ode to new guy
Thin like me,
red hair, freckled,
gap between front teeth,
a Midwesterner,
forgot where.
A replacement,
you were a F.N.G.
Made us laugh,
a clown, sad
behind your mask.
Never got to know you.
Flaked out
even on easy missions.
I treated you
as a non-person,
a pariah to be shunned.
You talked too loud,
made too much noise.
Couldn’t respond
to my basic
combat commands,
fired too much ammo.
We carried you
on a poncho
for 2,000 meters,
crossing a stream,
up a hill.
Dead weight.
F.N.G.: fucking new guy
Marc Levy – Poetry Reading
This segment features Marc Levy in a poetry reading hosted by the Woodstock, NY chapter of Veterans For Peace. The host was More Than a Memory contributor Dayl Wise (fellow with long hair and beard). The event was held at the old Woodstock City Hall in January 2008. Philip Levine, poetry editor of Chronogram, co-ordinated it.
More than a paperback!
We’re proud to announce the hardcover edition is finally completed. Click on the image below to purchase on Amazon.com
Interview on Reader Views
Today, Tyler R. Tichelaar of Reader Views is pleased to interview Victor R. Volkman, Marc Levy, Tom Skiens and Tony Swindell who are here to talk about the new book “More than a Memory: Reflections of Viet Nam.”
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![]() Victor R. Volkman |
Victor R. Volkman is Senior Editor of Modern History Press, a publishing house dedicated to empowering authors to speak about surviving conflict and seeking identity in modern times. Although not a veteran of any service, he is committed to seeing veterans’ stories told. |
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![]() Marc Levy |
Marc Levy served with Delta 1/7 Cav as an infantry medic in Viet Nam and Cambodia in 1970. He was decorated once for gallantry, twice for valor, and twice court-martialed. His prose, poetry and essays have been published in various online and print journals, most recently on counterpunch.org. In 2001 he was selected to attend an ACA residence. A video of his war experiences, “The Real Deal,” is distributed by The Cinema Guild. |
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![]() Tommy Joe Skiens |
Tom Skiens joined the 11th light infantry brigade in Hawaii, September 1967 a year out of high school. Tom became the 4.2 inch Forward Observer (FO) for Charlie Company, 4th Battalion 3d Infantry Regiment on the USS General Gordon seven days before they arrived in Viet Nam. He later attended Southern Oregon State College from 1969 through 1974. He has conducted 50 critical incident debriefings which provided trauma related information to over 600 people. He also brought the drug free workplace program to the National Forest where he worked. This led to four interventions. Tom has given classes and trained others about substance abuse and critical incident stress. |
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![]() Tony Swindell |
Tony Swindell served with the 31st PID, 11th Light Infantry Brigade (LIB), Americal Division, during 1968-69. His unit participated in the My Lai massacre in Pinkville in 1968, and he was later a witness to incidents involving the murder of Vietnamese civilians by brigade commander Col. John W. Donaldson. He is currently an editor at the Sherman, Texas, Herald Democrat. |
Tyler: Welcome, Victor, Marc and Tom. I’m happy you could join me today. Let’s begin by your telling me about what is contained in “More Than a Memory”-are they individual recollections of the Viet Nam War? (more…)
More Than A Memory: Reflections of Viet Nam Book Trailer
More Than A Memory: Reflections of Viet Nam Book Trailer by Rich Raitano
Betty
Betty
By: Tom Skiens
Have you heard about Betty
She’s a bouncer from the land of ville s
The first time that I met her
Was at the bottom of an old ROK hill
The ROK’s long since departed
some wire and Betty remain
The point diddy bopped right over the top
but not Scully and Hall, what a shame
Its a hot date, our first time with Betty
She dropped ten men in a row
The eleventh in line was Zimmerman
learning things he didn’t want to know
The Zimmer Man and I
Well we got to walk the line
I be judging the size of Betty’s holes
On the radio with the Captain all the time
We be needing two choppers for the dust off
One bird can’t lift all this weight
We have two that are in no hurry
They be lined up at the pearly gate
The Zimmer Man and I
We be prancing down the line
You with the 2″ hole in the shoulder
Grab your gear and double time
Betty’s got one moaning
Another s losing his mind
And another with a face full of shrapnel
Froze up standing his place in line
The Zimmer Man and I
Doing shit we never knew
Rifling through Rucks and Pancho’s
Getting ready for dust off #2
I don’t think I like Betty
She’s a fickle bitch at best
She jumps right up, 3 feet or so
And then fuck’s you in the chest
She will blow your legs to the left
And the rest of you to the right
She will blow your balls into the next day
And posses the souls of the night
With special thanks to;
Marc Levy, Mentor, editor and widely published author.
Betty: M-16 A1 antipersonnel mine. When tripped, a Bouncing Betty jumps out of the ground 3 to 5 feet before exploding.
Villes: G.I. slang for village
land of villes: authors phrase to represent Vietnam
ROK hill: A Republic of Korea base camp built on a hill.
ROK: A feared mercenary from the Republic of Korea.
diddy bop: GI slang for walked or passed by
They Grow Coffee Now
Khe Sanh 2008 (WRITTEN UPON MY SON’S RETURN FROM A COLLEGE TRIP TO VIETNAM WHERE HE VISITED MY DIGS)
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE SANDBAGS COVERED MY COMMO SITE.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE YOUNG MARINES WERE WAITING TO FIGHT.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE DUSTOFFS WERE CIRCLING TO LAND.
THEY GROW COFFEE NOW…
WHERE THE WOUNDED GRUNTS BLOOD RAN.
HOW DO YOU TAKE YOUR MIDNIGHT SWEATS ….
WITH ONE LUMP OR TWO ?
Stolen Youth
Our youth was tested
all those many years ago
when the boys we were
faced the mortality
of the men we were to be.
In the chaos that lurked
just beyond the wire,
The mayhem of bitter tribulation
waited in ambush,
calling for us by name…
beckoning for our very souls.
Deaths Black Angel
would pass in a rush of indifference;
his cold, icy fingers reaching
for the warmth of Life itself;
our youthful spirits forever wounded
by the vulgar stench of war.
Time has become entangled
in the oppressive barbed wire silence.
stilled by the need for penance,
it tortures the heart and spirit;
wanting only the peaceful refuge
of holy absolution.
Let our sorrows and tears
fall upon their granite names,
those many faces we knew.
Friends made…
Friends lost.
God shed your Grace on thee.
This was our stolen youth
those many years ago
when the men we were
walked with death and insanity
on the fine line of madness.
Doc Rich R




