I am a conscript

One of my poems following an Australian conscripted soldier in the Vietnam War

It’s being 10 years since that fateful day.

I think I remember that day, the day I was conscripted.

We were listening to the radio Ma, Pop and I.

When they said my birth date my heart missed a beat.

I see the faces of my mates and enemies alike.

The taste of sweat and blood swell up in my mouth.

I touch the faces of the dead Viet com’s their just like me.

The feel of when I leave my family for the Viet jungle is like that of those I have lost.

The need for clothes that are clean and the letters from dear ones.

I want to get rid of them, the memories of being a conscript.