Dear Mom:

The war is done
My task is through
But, Mom, there's something
That I must ask of you.
I have a friend I met here
He has no home you see
And so I would really like
To bring him home with me.

Dear Son:

We most surely do not mind
If your friend comes home with you
I'm sure that he could stay with us
Perhaps a week or two

Dear Mom:

But, Mom he's not just an ordinary friend
He's like a brother, too
That's why I want him with us
And like a son to you

Before you give your answer, Mom
I really don't want to beg
But my friend fought in a firefight
In which he lost his leg.

Dear Son:

It really hurts for me to say
My answer must be "no,"
For your Dad and I have no real time
For a friend who is crippled so

Dear Mom:

There's something you must also know
So please don't be alarmed
My friend, in firefight recently
Was hurt and lost his arm.

Dear Son:

Don't be afraid to bring him home
We'll prepare another room
Perhaps he could stay to visit
If just for a day or two.

Some months go by, a letter comes
It says their son has died
And when they read the cause of death
The shock was "suicide."

Day later, when the casket comes
Draped in an America's flag
They saw their son just lying there
Without an arm and leg.

This was written by Sargent Billy McNichols, with the First Marine Division, in I-Corps. He was in the Infantry, 0311, and he died in May of 1970, four weeks after he returned to the United States.