When?
They gathered in the streets and in the coffee house across this great land,
where
they plotted and planned.
They crusaded, yelled, cursed and in open defiance burned their draft
cards in hand.
They brazenly waved the enemy's flag in our face.
They shouted, "It's not our damn war, we won't go!"
They spit on and burned the Red, White and Blue and yelled "F---- you!" too.
The POW's under went brutal, intense and prolonged agony, and this man has the audacity to ask me? When?"
They made fun of the MIA's and spit on the returning WIA's and shouted,
"Baby Killers!"
They screamed their approval when Jane Fonda sat on the AAA gun in Hanoi and
thumbed her nose
at our fighting men and women.
I can think
of over Fifty Eight thousand reasons for not forgiving or forgetting.
And they are
all inscribed on a cold black granite wall. And that man
has the audacity to ask me: When?
Then, like cowards:
They ran and hid-out in all four
corners of the earth to keep out of harms way.
When it was all over,
They sneaked back into the good old US of A under
the protection of the
highest office of the land.
"That was an unjust war!" was the lame excuse they used to justify their
immoral sin.
I ask, "Who
gave them a choice?" No one gave you or me a choice! It was our duty, and it was the law
of the land.
Now, today, this
man has the audacity to ask me, "WHEN am I going to forget and forgive?"
Well, let me tell you something my friend: I have the tenacity to answer
this question once
and for all!
"When
will you forgive and forget the Vietnam War protesters?"