In observance of Veterans Day, I would like to take a moment to share two stories of two Warriors who served their country in the Vietnam War. Two people who lives were transformed forever after their experiences of war. Two people who are very different but share one common thread, one of pride, the Marine Corp. The first interview and segment is about a dear old close friend who passed away several years ago named Bob Cupit and the second segment is about a new friend, Jim Campbell. I will be posting more Vet related stories in the future, because, their stories need to be heard. Thank you to all those who came before. And Thank You Brothers for your service!
Bob Cupit.
I first met Bob Cupit in 1996 at a local open mic at the Side track Tavern in North Bonneville, WA. We became instant friends and he told me some great stories over the years. He was a grand song writer and poet. The Vietnam war had left a mark on him forever, and he wore his Marine Corps career upon his sleeve. The war had awakened him to the unjust ways our government does war, pushing him into being pro-militia. His politics were infused deeply in his writing carried through with wit and sarcasm. Bob passed away in a car crash in 2010 near Parkdale, Oregon. He will never be forgotten!
Unknown Soldier
©Bob Cupit
The old Regiment regroups
as the evening shadows fall,
on a dead end street underneath the Burnside bridge.
Where they talk like ghost and whispers,
about some battles they recall,
and some friends they left out on some nameless ridge.
And they have learned to keep their distance,
and they have learned to keep their peace
as they meet out on the lonely outpost on the brink.
Where the man down at the pawn shop
has been taking Silver Stars,
and a purple heart won’t buy a man a drink.
Chorus:
And there’s no marble monument for the wasted, walking, wounded.
We offer them no glory or acclaim,
Some folks call them heroes once,
and some folks call them bums,
but nobody ever calls them by their name…
and they’re the Unknown Solider just the same.
Verse II:
You can see them on the corner
of almost any city street.
To proud to beg
and still too strong to fall.
Look how people turn away
afraid their eyes might meet
those of man whose name belongs up upon the wall.
And what could they know of men,
of such pride and discipline,
that they paid the price and never asked the cause.
They just don’t seem to know,
that a Solider just can’t go,
Home, until after the war is won or lost.
Chorus:
And there’s no marble monument for the wasted, walking, wounded.
We offer them no glory or acclaim,
Some folks call them heroes once,
and some folks call them bums,
but nobody ever calls them by their name…
and they’re the Unknown Solider just the same.
Verse III:
On the rolling green of Arlington,
a hundred thousand strong,
White crosses glistening in the morning sun.
And on the hillside a bugle boy,
plays that sad old song,
for the mother weeping for her fallen son.
And yonder stands a statue
of a man in uniform
forever guarding his eternal flame.
And standing at the flame,
are Veterans trying to stay warm,
No, we don’t treat all our Unknown Soldiers just the same.
Chorus:
And there’s no marble monument for the wasted, walking, wounded.
Who gave up more they could ever claim,
Some folks call them heroes once,
and some folks call them bums,
but nobody ever calls them by their name…
and they’re the Unknown Soldiers just the same.
Jim Campbell
I have just recently met Jim, but it feels as though we have been friends for a bit. He is a soft spoken fellow who moved here to Pe Ell, Washington a couple years ago to homestead and live self sufficient. He, like Bob, was greatly transformed by what he saw in Vietnam and it has shaped him for the rest of his life. I wandered over one rainy day to his homestead to ask him about his experience.
