by Lyle Orreal 4 Platoon B Company 9RAR

• Imagine that life is a dream, and dreams appear real,
• Then my friend, and only then, you will understand how I feel.
• It started several years ago, or was it yesterday?
• We sailed to a new adventure in that land so far away.



• From aircraft carrier to landing craft it happened just like they said
• We attacked that village beach head and none of us are dead.
• You're all professionals, they told us, and good soldiers never die.
• Recalling past events, I know that was just a lie.



• But something didn't seem quite right, as we advance that day.
• The villagers were there to welcome us, and children were at play.
• Not a shot was fired. That's not what we expected.
• We were supposed to be at war, yet we were unaffected.



• Days passed at Nui Dat, then came the orders that we awaited.
• We will search for and destroy the enemy that we hated.
• From treetop level to jungle clearing. Iriquois signalled our arrival,
• While gunships circled overhead, ensuring our survival.



• From chopper to jungle cover we ran, our Cobra's guns were blazing
• Showered by leaves and limbs of trees, their bullets were erasing.
• Then deathly silence filled the air, as air support went home
• Darkness closed in qulckly, and we were all alone.



• That night we dreamed in peaceful sleep, of our land called Huc-duAoi
• Of family, friends and memories of other days gone by.
• Stirred only by the sentries, creeping stealthily through the night,
• And the report and thud of artillery, in some distant firefight.



• At dawn we moved out cautiously, no anticipation of events to come,
• A vicious jungle battle, chilled the soul of everyone.
• Forward scouts had signalled enemy. "There's only three of them."
• Our scouts were not to know those three were with a company of men.



• With the roar of light arms fire, those three lives were ended fast,
• Then the crack of close~placed bullets, filled the air as they went past.
• Seconds seemed like hours before that dreaded sound,
• The scream of approaching rockets; their explosions shook the ground.



• "Medic! Medic!" Voices yelled almost simultaneously;
• As men fell down, all around in pain and misery.
• The Medic clambered down the bank, into the small creek bed.
• The Sergeant lay upon the mud, a bullet through his head.



• The Medic's shirt was soaked with sweat, his throat and mouth were dry,
  For he was caught in crossfire and must surely die.
• "Dustoff! Dustoff!" The Medic screamed, not one of fear or dread,
  With desperation in his voice, he knew, the Sergeant would soon be dead.



• Then all at once the fighting ceased, almost as quickly as it started
  The NVA withdrew their troops and then the armies parted.
• "I see red!" The Huey pilot said, "Is the area clear?"
• "Affirmative," the Sig replied sarcastically, "there's been no action here."



• Phantom fighters came from Bien Hoa, and thundered overhead,
• As "Dustoffs" took their human load, the wounded and our dead
• Like a demented Hollywood movie, this scene continually repeated.
• With politicians as directors until the actors were depleted.



• And during the next twelve months each action seemed the same
• "Violence!" Solidified the spirit and petrified the brain.
• Then after just a few hours flight I'm back home in Australia once more.
• My family and friends are with me, but my mind is still at war.



• At night I dream in restless sleep, of other days gone by.
• Of fighting, death and destruction and of true friends who I saw die.
• So imagine that your dreams are real, and true life's just a dream.
• Then my friend and only then, you will know what I mean.