DAD, I UNDERSTAND

My dad was a tough man
in the years of World War II.
Instead of going off to war,
had a cotton mill job to do.
Five days a week loom fixing,
making canvas for tent and truck,
all the while he kept hoping
for a change in his rotten luck.
Every thirty days he took the physical,
every twenty eighth he was deferred.
A strong able bodied patriot man,
to him it was absurd.
Your civilian job is more important
he was told by Army Brass,
though he longed to be a fighting man,
he could only watch it pass.

Each weekend at Fort Jackson
Drill Sergeant Lesley you would see,
in the South Carolina Army Guard
doing his part to keep us free.
He trained fresh recruits who knew
not their left from their right,
but guided by the Northern Star
could find their way at night.
He told me funny stories
of little tricks that were played,
while soldiers went off to war,
in the cotton mill he stayed.
We laughed and cried in wonder
but his eyes betrayed the unrest
of being a faithful soldier
who never faced his ultimate test.

In my eighteenth year I joined
that band of special men.
I put it all on the line
to go where dad had never been.
The Viet Nam War was going strong,
I volunteered twice to go,
but orders sent me elsewhere,
the Air Force Brass said no.
In 90 came the Gulf War,
surely deployed I would be,
but when the Storm finally started
state side was all I would see.

Twenty eight, seven and six* I served
I gave it all I had,
Dad I know now first hand
what made your eyes so sad.
While others marched off to war
I followed orders, did my very best,
but never served in combat,
never faced my ultimate test.

There are things a soldier should do,
places where he should go,
fiery trials he must face,
so he can truly know,
when called to give his all
he gave his very best,
then he can rest in the knowing
he passed his ultimate test.

Dad I see your emptiness
in the mirror when I gaze.
It only grows the deeper
in my rapidly passing days.
Again I see your reflection
in eyes that betray unrest
for I too am a faithful soldier
who never faced his ultimate test.

©Copyright January 6, 2005 by Charles F. "Butch" Lesley

* twenty eight years, seven months, six days