The Sister

She was a sister in the Army Nursing Corps.
I saw her in Vietnam but I'd known her before.
She got into trouble, she wouldn't conform,
With army hypocrasy they said was the norm.

But she's an angel of mercy with heart of gold,
Caring for wounded soldiers who were once so bold.
Minstering their needs with such tender care,
And the pain and agony, with them she did share.

I met her again, but this time on the net.
She'd been asking a newsgroup about a vet
When I asked about her, she was guarded and curt.
And somehow I sensed that she still hurt,

The memories were back to haunt her again,
And I could tell she was feeling much pain.
I reached out to her to show that I care,
And that the memories I was willing to share.

Reliving the nightmares of that time long past.
Now many years later she's come homing at last,
The process is painful with a long way to go,
But I'm sure she'll get there, taking it slow.

©Lee O'Neill 1999

For my dear friend and adopted sister Barbara,
who served as a nursing sister in Vietnam 1970-71