I don’t know why I left

But I know I was wrong

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Got a letter in the mail,

Said go to war or go to jail

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Slapped me down in a barber’s chair

Spun me around, I had no hair

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Used to drive a Cadillac

Now I hump it on my back

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Used to be a high school stud

Now I’m marching in the mud

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Used to wear my faded jeans

Now I’m wearing Army greens

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Used to date a beauty queen

Now I love my M16

But it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home

 

Mama, mama don’t you cry

Your little boy ain’t gonna die

Cause it won’t be long

‘Till I get on back home



……



I'm starting to feel it now.

That sick roiling in my stomach at the thought of my soldier boy going back there.

his second time around.


I priced a ticket to NM – R17 125.

Not much different to a ticket to Hawaii.

Still way out of my grasp though. And his.

He wants to go home. I don't blame him. He _needs_ "home" right now. As much as i want to be part of that "home"… i can wait. i _will_ wait. as long as it takes.



The more I read these milblogs (and i probably shouldn't… if i want to stay sane) the more i feel that tug at my heart.
This is someone who means _so_ much to me. More than anything in my life, ever.
Who, i can honestly say, i could not live without now.
He is so much a part of my day, my week, my weekends, that even when i go a _day_ without talking to him, i feel lost, restless, out of kilter. itchy, like a junkie needing a fix.
Talking to him – even if it's 5 minutes before he goes to work, or hours into the night, talking shit and laughing about everything, sharing music, thoughts on things – it's like an intense boost to something that's always there, deep inside me. he's like my powerup!

I see a uniform now (whether it's out there or online or on tv, it doesn't matter) and my heart leaps. I hear an accent and i immediately think about him, and smile stupidly. i hear the word "soldier" and my ears prick and my attention swings to whoever said it.

And i hear him singing.
See his patches. His name in bold letters.

This stupid war.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s