Saturday, November 9, 2013
With 400 World War II veterans dying every day in the U.S., this poem, passed along by friends, serves as a poignant reminder of the reason we celebrate Veterans Day (formerly called Remembrance Day).
He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.
And tho’ sometimes to his neighbours
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we’ll hear his tales no longer,
For old Bob has passed away,
And the world’s a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.
He won’t be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won’t note his passing,
Tho’ a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state.
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young.
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Someone who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician’s stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension — though small.
It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever-waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier —
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end?
He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier’s part,
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honour
While he’s here to hear the praise,
Then at least let’s give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
“Our country is in mourning,
a soldier died today.”