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