No, you need not have fought in
Vietnam, or any of the other wars,
To suffer from the enduring pain
They’ve inflicted upon the poor
Unseen victims of their horror.

How many nights have you spent,
Filled with deep, aching sorrow,
As your veteran wept and moaned
In distress that stole tomorrow?

You both relive those battles again;
You’ve both felt the fear and pain
As comrades fell and bullets flew…
Red blood flowed, fresh and new…
You might as well have been there, too.

Although you never in person saw
The awful scenes from that war,
It’s held you, wounded, in its claw,
Tried to gulp you down its maw.

There are no combat medals for you,
But, oh, My Love, you’ve been there, too.