Best Sadwar Poems
When I hear the sound of "Taps" on Memorial Day,
Or hear that plaintive tune when a veteran is laid away,
I try to remain stoical but am easily moved to tears,
As I recall the sacrifices of heroes throughout the years.
Valiant men suffered hardships at their posts in Valley Forge,
To win our nation's independence from resolute King George.
Stalwart men died in the War of 1812 and at the historic Alamo,
To sustain our precious freedoms - so much to them we owe!
The Civil War upheld the Union, tho' much needless blood was shed.
'Twas during that awful conflict that "Taps" was born, 'tis said.
Since its genesis, its haunting tune is yet heard o'er the graves,
Of heroes who sacrificed their all to ensure our flag yet waves!
They served with honor to defend the liberties we hold dear,
And to preserve dignity for others around this troubled sphere,
Giving all on the Altar of Honor for mankind's follies to atone.
Alas, in return, all they merited was a simple marble stone.
Sadly, most every day we hear that melancholy strain,
Echoing across the nation from hills and verdant plain.
As a grateful nation gathers to bid each a sad goodbye,
Parents, spouses and children are left to wonder - WHY!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
A hundred-ten year old soldier was interred in Arlington Cemetery today.
Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles now sleeps nigh his comrades in sacred clay,
Awaiting that glorious morn when Gabriel's bugle will sound that final call,
To fall in for the last calling of the roll! Corporal Buckles will be standing tall!
"Taps" was played echoing far beyond the hills of Arlington into the misty past,
Reminding all of brave men who were destined to die or were horribly gassed!
Courageous men who willingly placed national destiny above their very own,
To ensure that our precious and hard-won freedoms would ne'er be overthrown!
Only sixteen, he lied about his age trying to join the navy and marines with no luck,
And was told, "Go home before your Mom knows you're gone, you young buck!"
He told a bigger whopper telling the army recruiter he was all of twenty-one!
The sergeant, looking for warm bodies signed him up, thence the deal was done!
He was promoted to corporal and served with distinction as an ambulance driver.
After serving in France, he was honorably discharged, returning a heroic survivor!
As a civilian he was a prisoner of the Japanese in the Philippines but was kept alive,
And was rescued after three years in Los Banos prison camp in nineteen forty-five.
He proudly represented the 'doughboys' of The Great War as last man standing.
So much, so very much to him we owe for his service was most outstanding!
That venerable symbol of America, the majestic Golden Eagle, cried,
On the day that the old veteran, Corporal Frank Woodruff Buckles died!
(Corporal Buckles, the last American survivor of World War 1, died 27 February 2011, at the age of 110)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
He was a ghost of a young soldier,
in war he died,
at home they cried,
he looked like a wreck,
exhausted and caved in,
eyes weary and dazed,
so much killing, but no sin,
mind confused and crazed,
his brown hair dirty and dull,
the war was draining,
he even forgot his training,
ignoring the explosions hitting the ground,
every few yards he hears the sounds,
he then hears the whines twisting together,
vibrating sound, and another pound,
the war growing louder,
the bombs shattering frowns,
voices drown,
mostly in pain,
everything around him, completely insane,
as shrapnel blew,
the fighting grew,
death was real, death was true,
he watched all that and didn’t know what to do,
the last thing he saw was a flash,
he then heard a crash,
and what worried him most,
was more and more soldiers becoming ghosts.