The Enemy (poem)

There are few beggars in Vietnam nowadays.

It is a fertile country where most people grow vegetables on their small plots of land.

He was one of the few I saw my whole trip, standing alone near the tourist stop, looking forlorn on crutches; his missing leg long gone.

Was this broken old man a fierce soldier 40 years ago?

How strange to see your adversary so distant from the seminal event of his life and mine.

Dashing out of the van carrying our tour group, I leave a much too small donation to this once proud warrior.

Why didn't I at least look deeply into his eyes?

His image haunts me as I struggle still with what it all meant.

How I wish to relive that moment, to connect in some way with a man who once was the enemy.

- Matt Wathen, A-7 pilot, USS Enterprise, 1969