We left the barracks in mid-March,
With snow still on the ground,
Drove two days across the border,
To participate in a multi-national event,
Commemorating the World War II atrocities,
The Japanese called Death Marches.
Our soldiers, sailors, and airmen,
Were marched relentlessly across the Philippines.
Bataan Death March,
Where only the strongest survived.
Today I march for them,
For fallen comrades,
Recognizing their sacrifices.
Freedom’s price so high, paid with our brothers lives.
Here I am, out of water, as I march through the deep sands;
Bataan Memorial Death March,
Where quitting is not my option,
As my brothers marched without choice.
Wounded warrior, I suffered through dehydration,
Through pain in joints already injured in service to my country.
Out of water, I did not worry, for I knew;
The human body’s capability to survive,
For days on end in relentless conditions,
I marched on, to the end…
16 Feb 2015
© 2015 CM Davidson Pickett
He was a large soldier, standing well over six feet.
In World War II; imprisoned in the Philippines.
Thousands perished on the Bataan Death March.
They were brutally beaten; starved and parched.
Wanting to give up, during this sixty five miles.
Thoughts of his wife, Helen; her beautiful smile.
They had vowed to be each others help mate.
He would press on, with a slow, painful gait.
Knowing she was praying for him gave him strength.
Tho thousands of miles apart, their hearts still linked.
Their marriage, like the oak tree; its' roots were very strong.
He was a skeletal seventy-eight pounds when he returned home.
When he was certain he could simply go no farther.
His lovely wife Helen became his scent of water.
*This is a true story about one of my husbands cousins, Helen and her
husband. She has dedicated her life to helping find POWS or their remains. She
works tirelessly and has helped numerous families. I am honored to know her. I never knew him. He had gone to heaven before I met my husband.
July 16, 2014
Contest: Scent of Water
Sponsor: Faye Gibson
THE DISABLED VET
Many wars have come and gone
These wars took men away from home
Some of them did not return
But the memory of them will always burn
Deep within this country's heart
These valiant men became a part
Of what secured this nation's might
That we may rest at ease each night
But what of those who did come back
Maimed, disfigured, and not intact
Perhaps a leg or arm is gone
Perhaps an eye or twisted bone
What can we do for this special vet
We want to help some way, but yet
We find it hard just what to do
To show him we know what he went through
Try to imagine how he must feel
The pain and suffering will never heal
It might have happened on the march to Bataan
At the Battle of the Bulge, or Vietnam
No matter where it all took place
For the rest of his life, he'll have to face
The disability that you can see
Which he sustained for you and me
So when you see one such as this
Don't turn away and pretend to miss
The look on his face you should have met
Take time to notice the Disabled Vet
14 February 1995
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