The Yellow Bastard
I got this confusion,
I simply cannot sleep
My heart is aching badly,
but I found no reason to weep
A news from the men in the front line
That the war is near to ending,
Yet nobody can ascertain
which side is going to win
I pray for the brave men
To be home soon alive and safe
A sound sleep for their children
They left home before bed
I feed them with the hopes
That their daddies will win the fight
They'll be back if not the morrow
Maybe after the next three nights.
I am a yellow bastard
Who refused to join the rest
Of their effort to gain freedom
While their own lives are at risk.
I can see the shame on my face
I can taste my own disgrace
My way of self-redemption
Is to wish our men all safe.
Date & Time of Writing
August 11, 2007
1:11am - 1:53am
A bit of history:
Lt. Gen. George S. Patton, at that time the commander of the Seventh
U.S. Army (but he was more popular as the commander of the Third U.S.
Army towards the war's end), visited a military hospital in Sicily on
Aug. 3, 1943. He walked past the beds of wounded soldiers, asking them
about their injuries. Coming to the bed of a soldier who lacked visible
signs of injury, Patton inquired about his health.
The soldier, 18-year-old Pvt. Charles H. Kuhl, had been initially
diagnosed as having a case of psychoneurosis. He told the General that
he couldn't mentally handle the battle lines. "It's my nerves," he said.
"I can hear the shells come over but I can't hear them burst."
Patton, so enraged, slapped Kuhl across the face and called him a "Yellow Bastard".
Copyright © Jecon B. Nadela | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment