The following poem was composed by B. D. Davis,
probably in the late 1940s (?):
[original in possession of Barbara Lee]
Father of all and keeper of my soul;
At last to Thee my dimming eyes I turn.
I have not flinched beneath the awful scroll,
Of pain and memories that scar and burn.
Look on this broken, pain-racked frame of mine;
Bear witness, Father, that when young and strong,
I saw my country’s beacon shine and answered, “Here!”
And joined the mighty throng.
Full of young life and strength, I took my place,
To shield democracy, to combat wrong.
Against the ruthless foe I set my face,
To shield the weak, to smite the lawless strong.
The training camp, the oceans dark expanse,
The crowded cheers, the orator’s farewell,
The boxcar ride, the shell torn fields of France,
All I recall, so clear, so well.
The nights of horror in the rain and mud,
The skies aflame with the fury of the guns,
The morning push, the wire, the shock, the blood,
Machine guns shattering around fear-crowded Huns.
With boyish glee I met the forearms steel. I killed.
These broken hands one time were red
and met the thrill that only soldiers feel,
When for their country they have fought and bled.
Then came one day, a shrieking flash, the world on fire,
Then all was dark, and all was still, so still.
A broken body in that shell-torn mire,
A flickering life upon that death-strewn hill.
A life that all but flickered out
To months of horror in the crowded wards.
What harried forms, in fancy swarmed about
And thumbed wild quotes upon my mental cords.
More months shot through with nights of pain,
But though a cripple, I had grown content.
A grateful land had helped to ease the strain
With generous laws, complete and competent.
Then came the day when men forgot their pledge
That they made when soldiers marched away.
Our former friends began to back and hedge;
Alas, we found our idol’s feet were only clay.
Our wartime leaders joined the critic ranks,
And men whose names we once had all revered,
Proved money-mad or only feeble cranks,
Bowing before the masters whom they feared.
The business world turned all its mighty guns
Against the shattered ranks of men like me.
We lacked the strength with which we fought the Huns.
We lost, of course, against such force. What chance had we?
America, I gave my all to you,
My youth and strength, I heaped them at your feet.
I loved your flag of red and white and blue.
It thrilled my heart a waving down the street.
My life was yours, to take or to return,
I gave it freely when you asked for it.
You gave it back, but was it just to learn
How cheap are promises when men forget?
My children looked at me through hungry eyes,
My wife, distressed, tried to hide her fears.
Was it for that I wore those tortured grieves
Through all the memories of tortured years?
O God, I pledged that were these things at stake,
Even the credit of this land of Thine,
I would not grudge whate’er of mine you’d take,
But gladly join the down and out in line.
To wait for alms and think my lot was naught,
Compared to that already given,
If giving my rights just would suffice
To place my country in financial heaven.
But when I saw the disposition made,
Of what was taken from my meager lot,
I could not help but be afraid,
That it was done with neither plan nor thought.
And then the lads were in conservation camps,
Much better fitted to survive those times of stress than I,
Who older by a score of years
Had to face employment with much less success.
And then we plodded on our way
In hopes to see a brighter day.
The sky had cleared, that sky serene
And not a threatening cloud was seen
Prosperity seemed to reign once more,
Men’s hearts were light, as of days of yore.
Fine homes, great herds were within our shores,
And peace again had been restored.
Our boys by now had grown to men—
Good cars, good roads, good livelihoods.
But, alas, WAR had been declared again.
The draft says, “Young Men, fall in line.”
Protect those of your wives and kin,
Go fight, and make this world a place wherein
To live in peace within its bounds,
And never let your loved ones down.
To Fight we must, our face to save,
Our country’s flag we must uphold.
Peace must be won throughout the land,
Honor restored to every band.
Our army boys with hearts so bold,
And though tears were shed a million fold,
Took up their packs, went off to war,
To break the backs of hoards galore,
Who aimed to conquer with their might,
This great land,
And sit upon the throne of gold,
And there to reign with force uncontrolled.
And once again they joined the fight,
And never faltered to build an army, tanks and guns.
Our navy’s bombers excelled in force
To clear th e seas and set upon the rightful course,
To transport our sons to foreign lands, to right a wrong.
They faltered not, their high ideals upheld;
Their blood they spilled, their lives they gave
That freedom might again survive.
Those that returned, the victory won,
A hero’s welcome they received,
They kissed the soil, and there they prayed upon their knees,
That God would grant,
That there should never be,
A cause for World War Three.
Peace in the world we must employ, and live as brothers,
Sons of Thee, to build a Kingdom here below,
To choose their lives and what they’ll be,
And strive to build each human soul,
To live with Thee throughout all eternity.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
“OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY.”
iCabified
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MacAddictFile written on a Macintosh
PPC G4 Titanium using Mac OS X [Simply because it is the superior
platform]
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