eparation Blues
Had a seabag full of stuff that I would never use,
In truth, I mighta’ had the Separation Blues.
Got an Expedition Medal, it ain’t the Silver Star,
Gunny always told me, I wouldn’t get too far.
Turned in all my gear and cleaned my M-14,
In return I got a form called the 214.
Bid my last farewell to all the other guys,
Told ‘em shippin’ overe was really not my size.
Got my final pay, it wasn’t very much,
Figured it would do, if I gave up beer and such.
I didn’t have a plan when I left my Uncle Sam,
It didn’t matter much, cuz I didn’t give a damn.
Sauntered out the gate into the SoCal smog,
Headed for a place they don’t treat you like a dog.
I’ll kinda’ miss the beaches and that Tiajuana town,
And the stuff I pulled on Oki when the MPs wern’t around.
I ended up with stories that I can never tell,
Of this you can be sure, I have raised some hell.
It wasn’t just a lark, got shot at once or twice,
And what I called the VC, wasn’t very nice.
At home they have forgotten who the hell I am,
Just some damn Marine, back from Vietnam.
Got a Dear John letter, said we can still be friends,
Someone shoulda’ told me that’s always how it ends.
Left my car at home, put it up on blocks,
Got a broken windshield from kids a-throwin’ rocks.
Soon, I’ll take my place in that jobless line,
If the GI Bill should pass, maybe I’ll be fine.
I think about that day after 60 years,
When I went into The World with all my hopes and fears.
LDT USMC, ETS Friday, 13 May 1966
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