Editor’s note: Bellevue Reporter staff writer Shaun Scott’s late father Bob (Scotty) Scott was a combat Vietnam veteran who was wounded in battle in August 1968. He wrote this poem based on his experience:

For every soldier that was wounded and had to leave the field; his buddies, the pure terror of war, those are the images that will always go through their heads, no matter how long the passage of time! When you are with them, the time seems to fly by. You know their full name, their girlfriends, hometown, phone number, likes

and dislikes and their faces. It is all a blur, yet you were

much closer to them, than those who went all through

school with you. You were with them 24 hours a day

and depended on them with your life.

At the time you are hit, everything goes into slow motion

and the faces seem to be in a fog all around you. It

is your friends that have come by to see how you are

doing, all telling you that all will be fine and that they

will soon see you again. You know that this is not true!

They shake your hand, tousle your hair or pat you on the

shoulder to let you know that they are there, knowing

full well that you are on your own. They leave your side

as you lay stretched out waiting for an “evac” and go

about their business as usual, without you. Your

thoughts are centered upon living, while theirs is on the

enemy that they must face to complete their job. Your

fight is now over.

For the next few days you lost all aspect of time and

lose precious days that fog in and out while you are safe

and being treated. Your buddies are not so lucky. They

are carrying on the fight that you are unable to do. They

talk of you to one another from time to time and when

every new man comes into your company, they are told

of you and how to avoid what happened to you. You

wonder where they are, who’s on point, who’s on ambush

and who is on LP.

Some friendships made in war last a lifetime! Yet, there

are others that have slipped away. Neither can remember

who was with whom. You can’t remember the face

that saved your life, their names are erased from your

memory. Only sometimes when you meet with one of

your buddies, can you both recall certain people that

you depended upon. More than likely, you lose all contact

with those and have no way to re-establish that

contact. Until now. Some, sadly, do not wish to be en -countered.

THAT IS SAD!

To all of us, it sure would be nice if we tried to reestablish

those bonds of years gone by. Not to glorify

time, but to say THANKS to those that served with us

and became BROTHERS-IN-ARMS.