They told us you were a spirited child Born on the shortest day of the year You liked to play with snakes and frogs In the old silo pit in the barn's rear With your siste and brothers There was sibling rivalry Plenty of joking, games and teasing And fighting over the TV You used to ask you mother For a dollar to go up to town To Dixon's pool hall for a game Or the Sugarshack to hang around Remember the night the crew cuts were given Until someone took off the guard Dad came out in his boxer shorts And chased you around the yard Life seemed so simple then What more could be asked by any young man But in the background lingered a Black Cloud That place called Vietnam In November '65 the draft notice was sent With Ronnie Villa and Ronnie Wyles To Fort Jackson you went Fort Sill was the next stop Then a short furlough at home A bus trip to Oakland Where you called on the phone "This will be the last time you hear my voice." You told your Dad and Mom Then you got on the plane And went to Vietnam Only a short time would pass Till they came with the news Dad just came home from work Wondering, "What did Donnie do?" People passed by your casket By twos in long lines So many of yourfriends and family There to say good bye one last time Mom was screaming when the guns fired As they lay you to rest Crying she stood holding your Flag tightly to her breast Thirty years have passed by Since that day on Focklers Hill The people are all gone now Things are quiet and still But your memory stays with us In our hearts we hold dear Whenever we are together We wish that you were here. Karen M. Wyles

 

A memorial from his brother, Terry Wyles E-mail address is not available. 31 Oct 2001

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