'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)
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