My Friend Jim

There’s a hilltop there in Vietnam

deserted, cold and bare —

Except for one old rotted cross

that few men know is there.

It stands there, oh so all alone

amidst the mud and mire —

Stained with blood of men who died

no flowers, just barbed wire.

It’s here sometimes my thoughts are found

back to that lonely cross —

I think back of a friend I had

and by that cross I lost.

As friends, we shared our food and drink

in war our lives were one —

We fought and thought we’d never lose

a war that wasn’t won.

No, brothers not, but closer still

we shared a life of hell —

Until that day, God called your name

and on that hill you fell.

But rest in peace, my dearest friend

I think of you yet still —

My mind goes back to that old cross

atop that lonely hill.

Marvin Reed Jr.

1st Cavalry Infantry

Vietnam

Lehighton