Friday, January 18, 2013


I wrote this poem as I wrote my father's Navy history.


The world changed that day,
And young men felt the need to respond.
"We'll give ours back, we'll make it right,
We'll stand up, We choose to fight."

From the gridiron field, to the battle field,
From the school play to the battleship,
From the farm, from the literary club,
From the service group, From the study of books.
      They came to the boot camps to learn how to kill,
      And were taught to live in a world--

      Of bombs,
          Of bullets,
              Of torpedoes,
                  Of Knives,
      Of shells,
          Of oceans,
              Of bayonets,
                  Of strife.

They learned radar, and signaling, gunnery and knots,
Radio, mechanics, how to survive gas attack,
To jump from the deck of a ship,
God forbid they ever have to jump from the deck of a ship.

      And they drilled, and drilled, and drilled, drilled, drilled.
          They learned how to drill.

And they hoped when the time came,
When they passed through fire, that they might survive,
And return to the farms, the clubs and the fields,
And love their mothers and their children and their wives.

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