Bataan Death March

'Death March' (c) Lt Henry G. Lee, A Soldier's Poet So you are dead. The easy words contain No sense of loss, no sorrow, no despair. Thus hunger, thirst, fatigue, combine to drain All feeling from our hearts. The endless glare, The brutal heat, anesthetize the mind. I can not mourn you now. I lift my load, The suffering column moves. I leave behind Only another corpse, beside the road. My response, in reading these powerful, brutal lines ... thank you, Uncle Duke, and all who serve(d).

I cannot imagine what it was like to be Marched until you couldn't take. One. More. Step. What were your last Thoughts as you stared into the gun Pointed at your head? Was it fear? Or resignation? Did you pray? And if you weren't shot where you fell: You kept on. One foot in front of the Other on the road to Hell. Held captive For one thousand, two hundred twenty Four days before you were liberated just In time for your Mother's birthday. You were one of the lucky ones. Will never Know what you endured. You kept it deep Inside, in a secret place, that none should Touch, all the way to your grave. I weep, For your story wasn't told. How many More paid a terrible price and the words Remain silent? Mark mine: I will never forget What you did for my freedom ---- can't ignore Your sacrifice. I honor you this Veteran's Day And always. A 'thank you' is not enough for Righting the wrongs done to those who Served. I'll make sure your voices are heard ... (c) 2010, Karla Dorman (11/8)