In all the professions
I could have chosen to be
None gave me more
Honor or pride
or sense of responsibility.
Than to be called their
Medic or Boxie or Doc
To the 2nd of the 47th Infantry.
Recon, the Scouts,
A part of
Headquarters Company.
The men were daring, young and strong
We drank our beer and sang our songs
As we rode upon our tracks
In the paddies of solid green.
Each man was tested and a warrior
named attached
Cowboy, Pimp, Babysun, Slim
Pineapple, Repro-man,
Thurston Howell the third and Killer II
Then there was the Tazmanian Devil too
..Just to name a few.
We became fast friends
And they learned to trust me too
A name given to just a chosen few
They just called me. Doc Pardue
It was earned in battle
Fighting by their side .
They taught me about the living and the dying
And the surviving too.
It has been many years since
Our time in Vietnam
I've been known by many names since
But the one I learned to cherish most
Was given long ago
By my friends and brothers dressed in battle green
It's simply.. Doc Pardue