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POETRY OF WAR:
A lot has ben said and written about the soldier througout the years.
Thoughts from the soldier himself, or his family...
Thoughts for or against the things they do or have done, things that touches you or makes you angry, but anyway thoughts worth to keep and bear in mind.....
On this page I will collect some of the things I myself have collected, and also some of what I’ve found surfing the net. In time, I also hope that you who reads this, will send me
stuff that you find. This page is open for all points of views...
First, a small saying:
"Si sannheten, så slipper du å huske hva du har sagt"
Mark Twain
WHO IS A SOLDIER ?
Are you a soldier ?
Do you feel like a champ ?
Are you a social worker ?
Did you have the desire to be one as a kid ?
Do some of the older soldiers recognise their youth ?
And does it apply to today's soldier ?
After the security of childhood and before the insecurity of second childhood we
find a bunch of chaps called "SOLDIERS".
They work hard, get paid too little, take verbal abuse such as no civilian would
take, take any kind of job at any hour anywhere.
They never seem to have enough sleep, never seem to know where they are going
and can seldom tell where they have been.
They come in all shapes and sizes and can be found anywhere on land, in the air,
on the sea, on leave, in bars, in debt and always in LOVE.
They have the energy of turtles, the appetite of horses, the aspirations of
casanovas and when he wants nothing it is usually a Weekend pass !
Some of his likes are girls, women, females, chicks, dolls and of course Beer.
He has the pride of a peacock in the wake of success, and is anything compared
to an endangered King Cobra or a trapped Tiger when failure strikes.
Some of his dislikes are answering letters even though most uncomfortable when
letters are not delivered to his door steps.
Wearing his uniform for duties at odd times, getting up on time and above all
obeying orders which are contrary to personal opinions are some of the duties.
A Soldier is a magical creature you can put off your waiting list but not off your mind.
Nobody else can cram into one pocket a little black book, a deck of cards,
pictures of all his girls and what's left of his pay.
All your shattered dreams seem so magnificent when he looks at you with those
black, bleary bloodshot eyes and says "Hi Doll where's the Beer???
Well, that is the soldier. If you happen not to have been one,
HARD LUCK
For the Brothers in arms that is a Natural Call......
CAPT. V. BATSE
PlO FMR.
"THE SOLDIERS NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS"
By Major Bruce W. Lovely (With Apologies to Clement Moore Who First Wrote the
Story for His Children in 1822 also credit given to M/Sgt Noah Brazos Ross,
RA18033195, a USArmy 18th Field Artillery survivor of Utah Beach, France,
Luxembourg, Belgium, Battle for the Ardennes, Deutschland wrote "Daddy's
Christmas" (Soldier's Christmas)" as a Bonita, Montague County, Texas,
highschool exercise in 1937)
It was the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
I heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping silent alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.
His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a rough-headed soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.
Soon 'round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of soldiers like this one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my Corps."
With that he rolled over and drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still,
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was a soldier deep inside.
I didn't want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
"Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night!
I wrote this poem for Christmas Eve 1993 while assigned to US
Forces Korea Lt Col Bruce Lovely, USAF
(Printed in the Fort Leavenworth Camp, 1995)
(PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as may people
as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and we should all be aware of
where credit for our being able to celebrate these festivities is due.
Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
Please, do your small part to plant this small seed….)
"Belleau Wood"
Oh, the snowflakes fell in silence
over Belleau Wood that night
For a Christmas truce had been declared
By both sides of the fight
As we lay there in our trenches
The silence broke in two
By a German soldier singing
A song that we all knew
Though I did not know the language
The song was "Silent Night"
Then I heard my buddy whisper,
"All is calm and all is bright"
Then the fear and doubt surrounded me
"Cause I'd die if I was wrong
But I stood up in my trench And I began to sing along
Then across the frozen battlefield
Anothers voice joined in
Until one by one each man became
A singer of the hymn
Then I thought that I was dreaming
For right there in my sight
Stood the German soldier
'Neath the falling flakes of white
And he raised his hand and smiled at me
As if he seemed to say
Here's hoping we both live
To see us find a better way
Then the devil's clock struck midnight
And the skies lit up again
And the battlefield where heaven stood
Was blown to hell again
But for just one fleeting moment
The answer seemed so clear
Heaven's not beyond the clouds
It's just beyond the fear
No, heaven's not beyond the clouds
It's for us to find it here….
The CD is: Sevens
The cut is: Belleau Wood
The Authors are : Joe Henry and Garth Brooks Copyright 1997
"The Corpsman's Christmas Poem"
"It was the night before Christmas as I flew over the Marine Base,
when I spied a young man who seemed out of place.
His eyes showed compassion, his hair a bit long,
but his head was held high and his body was strong.
His air was confident, his uniform smart,
but what impressed me most was the size of his heart.
For he embodied honor, one of this country's best,
and the words U.S. NAVY showed large on his chest.
As I stood there in wonder and gazed into his eyes,
the words that he spoke took me quite by surprise.
"What's wrong Santa, haven't you ever seen a sailor before?"
I sensed something special and longed to know more.
"To be honest, this field thing wasn't part of my plan,
but God didn't give me a boat or tin can."
The words he spoke next surprised me all the more,
"But I'm as proud of my Navy as I am of the Corps!"
"Don't worry Santa, that I'm a sailor you see,
for when a Marine goes down they will still call on me.
They'll forget I'm a sailor, they'll call in my stock.
At the top of their lungs they'll yell ,"Get me the doc!"
"And I'll answer that call, anytime, anywhere.
Though I know I'm a target I really don't care.
I'll face incoming fire as I race cross the land,
and use my very own body to shield a downed man."
"Working long hours and into the night,
my unit's battle is over, but I'm just starting to fight.
For the life of every Marine is sacred to me.
I refuse to surrender them to death, and in that I'll find victory."
"And yet I'll take the time to comfort a dying man,
to sit down by his side, to reach out and hold his hand.
For it takes as much courage to care as to fight.
For just as the poem says, many don't "go gently into that night."
"Santa, it's not any one uniform that makes you a man,
but rather it's those ideals for which you choose to stand.
I draw my line here, it's long and it's plain.
For pain, hurt and suffering are the things I disdain."
I know very well that I may lose my life,
so that a Marine may see an unmet child and young wife.
So Santa, it really doesn't matter if they don't like my hair.
I'm a Navy Corpsman, their Doc, and I'll always be there."
"I follow the brave docs who have come long before,
from Belleau Wood, Iwo, and Lebanon's shore.
As history proudly shows, they all gave their best,
and for those who have died, surely they're blessed."
"At Inchon, the gulf and times during Tet,
our brothers have fallen, but we carry on yet.
For we carry their honor and legacy still."
As I held back my tears it took all of my will.
I had to leave him there for I had other plans,
but I knew in my heart that the Corps is in good hands.
As I flew away I heard his laughter, it rang so loud and clear.
"Hey Santa, how 'bout a nice pair of boots for the 26 miler next year?"
HMC(FMF/SW) Mark Forsberg
2/3 UDP, Okinawa, December 1997
"A BATTLE PRAYER"
Young Warriors; Should fate find you on the battlefield,
May your cause be a just one.
May your courage not falter. May you show mercy to your enemies.
May your efforts bring the blessings of peace.
May you be triumphant and earn victory.
May your sacrifice be always appreciated.
May you endure the conflict unharmed.
Should you be harmed, May your wounds heal.
Should you perish in the struggle,
May God embrace you and find a Place for you in his Kingdom.
by : Scott A.Tackett Sr.
Dear Sir,
I am one of America's soldiers who received a copy of "A Soldier's Christmas" over the
internet, and I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank you for giving some of my friends and family an opportune way to say 'thanks.' It meant a lot to me. I have not been
stationed in the US since 1995, and the nature of my job will keep me overseas throughout my career. Although I am not always viewed as that soldier with "dusty boots," I know all
too well what it is like to be away from home for so long - especially during the holidays. I would like, however, to take this opportunity to thank you, and America, for being the
fine, grand, noble Nation that makes each and every one of us out here serving in the military extremely proud of the country and the people we protect.
You don't necessarily have to pray for us soldiers, as we have chosen this life....and we will sacrifice our life for OUR people and OUR country. No, do not pray for us this holiday
season..... Pray for OUR Nation and its people......for only then will the life we 'chose' be worthwhile. Yes, I do pray for peace on Earth...always. But, "there will be wars, and
rumors of wars," so, in the meantime; maybe, just maybe, this year you can put out a suggestion to OUR American people...... We tend to fly our flag on 4th of July, we tend to
fly our flag on Veteran's Day......maybe this year, through your web-site, you could maybe "ask" the American people to put a small American Flag on their Christmas Tree,
amongst their ornaments, (or within their own religious ceremony/custom) just to "remember." A small reminder that "we" are free to celebrate whatever holiday,
however we please, because of that flag and what She represents.
Sir, I have volunteered to protect ALL Americans....Christian, Jewish, Agnostic, even
Atheist......it is my proud honor to do so.... and all I ask is that maybe, during this "holiday" season (whether one believes in it or not) is your help in asking "America" to
wave Her flag in Unity and be thankful for our Grand Nation. It would mean a lot to us out here, wherever we are......
“A Soldiers Christmas:”
"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
My life is my God, my country and my corps."
(and with all due respects to the Major,
I add.....)
America, my country-men,
Our flag is our life.....
We've accepted your ancestors
Through struggle, through strife...
We've come a long way,
Yes, a long way to go....
But we're out here defending,
The life that you know.
What you believe,
Is not my concern,
I carry my weapon.....
American learns....
I'm proud to serve you,
Wherever I'm sent,
For you are Americans...
From Allah to Lent....
And so my dear county-men,
I ask of you this...
Display Our flag,
And remember our bliss....
For I am out "here"
On this Christmas Day....
And I want you proud...
.......LONG MAY SHE WAVE.....
thank you,
from,
a service member.....
“POW's Prayer:”
Father, Your own Son was a prisoner. Condemned, he died for us. Victorious, He returned
to bring us the gift of life everlasting. Comfort us now in our longing
for the return of the Prisoners Of War and those Missing In Action. Help Us
Father; Inspire us to remove the obstacles. Give courage to those who know the
truth to speak out. Grant wisdom to the negotiators, and compassion to the
jailors. Inspire the media to speak out as loudly as they have in the past.
Protect those who seek in secret and help them to succeed. Show us the tools to
do Your will. Guard and bless those in captivity, their families, and those who
work for their release. Let them come home soon. Thank you Father.
Amen.
Author Unknown
( På norsk: )
Krigsfangens bønn:
Far, din egen sønn var en fange. Dømt døde Han for oss, men seierrik kom Han
tilbake for å gi oss evig liv. Trøst oss nå i vår lengsel etter å få tilbake dem
som er fanger av krigen, og dem som er savnet i kamp. Hjelp oss Far; Inspirer
oss til å få fjernet alle hindre. Gi mot til dem som kjenner sannheten, slik at
de tør snakke ut. Gi visdom til dem som forhandler, og medfølelse til dem som
setter mennesker i fengsel. Inspirer media til å tale høyt, slik de har gjort
gjennom alle tider. Beskytt dem som søker i hemmelighet, og hjelp dem å lykkes.
Vis oss verktøyene for å følge ditt ord. Vokt og velsign dem som sitter i
fangenskap, deres familier, og de som arbeider for deres løslatelse. La dem få
komme hjem snart... Takk Far.
Amen.
Ukjent forfatter
To all our Servicemen...
Welcome Home and God Bless you!!!
Let's bring them all Home!!!
One of the most beautiful songs I know, is the song “From A Distance”, performed by Bette Midler... A song that really touches my heart, and also describing toughts and feelings about the job we did.
Therefore I’ve put down the text for you to read, maybe as an explanation of toughts running trough a young peacekeeping soldiers mind....
"From a distance:"
From a distance the world looks blue and green,
and the snow-capped mountains white.
From a distance the ocean meets the stream,
and the eagle takes to flight.
From a distance, there is harmony,
and it echoes through the land.
It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace,
it's the voice of every man.
From a distance we all have enough,
and no one is in need.
And there are no guns, no bombs, and no disease, no hungry mouths to feed.
From a distance we are instruments
marching in a common band.
Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace.
They're the songs of every man.
God is watching us. God is watching us.
God is watching us from a distance.
From a distance you look like my friend,
even though we are at war.
From a distance I just cannot comprehend
what all this fighting is for.
From a distance there is harmony,
and it echoes through the land.
And it's the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves,
it's the heart of every man.
It is the hope of hopes, it's the love of loves.
This is the song of every man.
And God is watching us, God is watching us,
God is watching us from a distance.
Oh, God is watching us, God is watching.
God is watching us from a distance.
Lyrics: Julie Gold
If you have anything to edit, that may be texts or points of view, please send me a mail !
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