We're the battling Marines of Vietnam,

The place where no one gives a damn

Not even our own Uncle Sam.

We're fighting a war that's useless and dumb,

Still more and more men seem to come.

With thirteen months of sweat and combat,

We all hope we'll make it back.

Back to safety, beer and fun,

But only to wait for the next battle to come.

Then "Incoming!" is called,

And we jump in our holes,

And where the next round falls nobody knows,

We stay in our holes, some shallow, some deep,

Some trying to pray and some trying to sleep.

The rounds keep coming through the day and night,

Falling around us left and right.

The morning sun begins to shine,

We all know it's again that time.

To go on patrols all day long,

Searching and destroying the Viet Cong.

Now this little country's full of hell and hate,

It's called VIETNAM 1968.

 SOLDIERS LAST LETTER by MERLE HAGGARD