On the 75th Anniversary of the End of World War II

 

A Memorial Day Observation

On the 75th Anniversary of the End of World War II

If you can, please stand—not for what I am about to read here, but for those it is written about!

Ladies and gentlemen, I wish my dad were here,

And many of you wish the same, I fear,

For the decades have stretched so far and long

That our World War II soldiers are nearly gone.

From that “Day of Infamy,” 16 million served ‘til done

And over four-hundred-thousand never learned they’d won

Because they gave all they had when there was no more

So their families and homeland could be spared of war.

It is difficult to look back from where we are now

To prop-driven bombers and battleship prows,

Infantry brigades with the M-1 Garand

And paratroopers jumping into no-man’s land.

But those soldiers were tough and they followed orders well

Which often led them through the gates of hell

Where they came face-to-face with the devil’s crew,

And, more often than not, dealt them their due!

September 2nd, of ‘45 makes this a diamond anniversary year,

And, like I said, I wish my dad were here,

But seventy-five years plus a young man’s score

Makes those guys all ninety-five or more.

And though we thought they’d go on living forever

With that same determination in their every endeavor,

We find now that they really were only women and men

And wonder how they carried the world back then?

• Upon their backs is how it was done,

With courage, and sacrifice, and resolution—

For which we now stand in witness to honor those lost:

Downed on land, in air, and wild seas tossed!

May they live forever in freedom in our heads and our hearts,

Recalled and regaled for the sacrifices that set them apart,

And may the flag of our nation forever wave over them

For all they have given and gave so proudly….  Amen.

by

James N. “Jim” Zitzelsberger

© 2020

Ghost Soldiers

 Ghost Soldiers

A Memorial Day Salute

Last night I walked hand-to-hand

With some ghost soldiers from across this land

In witness of battles we can only see

Through their eyes and history.

We trod in quiet for quite a ways

While they thought, perhaps, about their living days

And maybe about some long lost love

Or parents and siblings they wondered of;

But when they spoke, to the one,

It was of a comrade and what they’d done:

A buddy, a sergeant, or some second lieutenant

Who could see the way with a victory in it!

They sucked it up, is what they said,

Knowing when they woke, they might be dead,

But then they charged the machine-gun nest

Or went over the top of salvation’s crest;

And what they did is what medals are for,

Heroics above and beyond the call of war,

Where none, they said, was left behind

Though after that their memories were blind.

They laid no blame, then or now,

Nor cursed their lot or solemn vow

To defend their country against any threat

And never once invoked the country’s dept!

We walked worn paths past historic points,

Those places where sacrifice clearly anoints

The legions of heroes noted on the scrolls of war,

Bespoke of their belief in what they bled for;

And onward we journeyed, hand-to-hand,

Until the first rays of dawn touched our land,

When to his post, each ghost soldier slipped back

To make ready again for any imminent attack.

 

The last to leave brought their colors down,

Close, but not once touching the ground,

Gave a smart salute and about-face-right,

Before marching off into the night

 

Leaving me alone to awake in my bed

With seeming miles afoot and notions ahead

To present this salute to that ghostly platoon

For sacrifice, valor, and lives taken too soon!

by

James N. (Jim) Zitzelsberger

© 2020