My name is Rikki I live in Glasgow Scotland U.K. I was never involved in any way with the war that took so many young men from their loved ones. I wrote a poem round about 1967 about the war in Vietnam, it is about the guys that got wounded and sent home.

I hope that you pick up on my feelings as I wrote it. My heart went out to the young men who were left there to fight on, as I was only 18 yrs of age, ( near enough the average age of those who never came home ) when I wrote this poem..

The Wounded Are The Lucky.

I see a war and blood around
I see a swarm of Vietnamese
I hear the screams as death doth sound
And pray to God do stop it please.

I hear the shells go whistling by
I see the troops all stumble and fall
I hear brave men like children cry
And pray to God do stop it all.

Now the mortar fire has died away
The sky opens, birds sing, out comes the sun
And I live to see another day
But some other mother has lost her son
To the echo of the enemies gun

The wounded are the lucky.

by Rikki Duncan 1967