Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men, Uncle Sam needs your help again.
He's got himself in a terrible jam, Way down yonder in Vietnam
So put down your books and pick up a gun, We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.
CHORUS
And it's one, two, three, What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't give a damn, Next stop is Vietnam;
And it's five, six, seven,Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why, Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
Well, come on generals, let's move fast; Your big chance has come at last.
Gotta go out and get those reds — The only good commie is the one who's dead
And you know that peace can only be won When we've blown 'em all to kingdom come.
CHORUS
Well, come on mothers throughout the land, Pack your boys off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers, don't hesitate, Send 'em off before it's too late.
Be the first one on your block, To have your boy come home in a box.
CHORUS
The day I got discharged, I flew into Philadelphia Airport. I got two and a half rows of ribbons (Orden). I’m very proud. I’m a meritorious sergeant and I got an honourable discharge.
I got off the plane and I went into a bar. The only thing I knew how to do was drink. I order a shot of whisky and a beer and I’m standing there with a big smile on my face. There was a guy over at a table with two kids and a woman. The kids were about my age - nineteen or twenty.
"Home on leave, are you", the guy says to me.
"Nope, just got discharged."
"You just got back from where", one of the kids says.
"Vietnam."
"How do you feel about killing all of those innocent people?" the woman asks me out of nowhere.
I didn’t know what to say. The bartender got a little uptight. But, I didn’t say anything. [...]
"Excuse me", I called the bartender over. "Could I buy them all a drink?" I felt guilty. I did kill. Tried to make it good somehow.
"We don’t accept any drinks from killers", the girl says to me. The bartender tells me to take it easy and goes over and chews out the girl. She says, "How does it feel being in the Army?"
"He’s not in the Army, he’s a Marine", the bartender said. [...]
I paid for my drinks, left the bartender a tip and walked out. Forgot all about it. I got in the car with my brother and his wife and I was just too happy being home to let that bother me. But now it does.
Later when we got home, my brother said, "Don’t wear your uniform." But I wanted to wear the thing. I had my ribbon. I was proud of what I’d done. I’m a king. That didn´t hurt me then, but it hurts me now.