It’s damp, it’s wet, and moist as hell,
living in this only time will tell.

  Arriving incountry during Monsoon time,
is a stroke of bad luck, not exactly a good time.

But Grunts are Grunts, that's what we are,
without us there, there’s no Marine Corps.

  We adapt to our surroundings, no matter what it might be,
for if our country calls us, we’ll be there Air, Land & Sea.

  Life as a Grunt when in the bush,
you're always hunting Charlie.

  Charlie’s in the ground, Charlie’s in the trees,
you never know where Charlie’s going to be.

Charlie travels in the night, being undetected he hopes,
Grunts go one step further, we see them in Star Light Scopes.

  But through this rainy season,
the rain does seldom stop.

  The air is thick like a real moist mix,
making it hard to breathe.

That alone wears you down, and isn’t very nifty,
you're carrying your gear, and bandoleers, and extra belts for the 60s.

  Vietnam has many obstacles that you must overcome, 
and I damn sure know that the Monsoon's number one.

  The misting rain it never stops, you're always wet at this time,
the Monsoon last 30 to 40 days, and then you see the sun shine.

  Ending this Poem you’ve all guessed it right,
I was a Grunt in 3/5 Mike.

 Cpl. Douglas Maier, 7/25/01

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