Men Of Valor...

Men Of Valor...

Many years ago, on a cold, misty October morning
left San Francisco to undergo Army basic training
war was raging overseas, the country needed him
left his wife and daughter to answer his calling
infantry he'll be, keeping bell of freedom ringing

Months of sweat, blood and tears, finally ended
was so happy to finish basic, time to take a leave
his private salary for the duration he received
Will get his wife and daughter, presents and gifts

Mid December in Class A uniform, graduation at last
spit shined shoes, fresh haircut, he looked sharp
duffle bag packed, paperworks all done, ready to go
the First Sergeant(1SG) called, why? he didn't know

Reported to the 1SG's office as soon as he could
at attention 'Pvt C, reporting', snapped a salute
scared and unknowing, he was told to stand at ease
briefly the 1SG bended, took something from his desk

A wallet in his hands, 'Is this yours?', 1SG asked
he tapped his pocket, felt nothing, he was shocked
'Where did you see it last?', the 1SG asked again
remembered none, he didn't know where and when

The 1SG handed his wallet back, money all gone
feeling of emptiness, sadness inside him crept
everything around him was dark and empty he felt
no money to spent for the holidays, no food to eat

Disappointed, heart beats rapidly, dejected,
a lump blocked his throat, can't even speak
down, desperate, broken, defeated, hurt, lost
nobody was to blame was his own fault

Dazed, he stayed at the 1SG's office for awhile
to collect his composure, tracking events, why~how
if only he was more careful, it shouldn't happened
but overwhelmed of going home, he got complacent

Time passed, how long matter not, he stayed there
he fell asleep to forget his grief at his chair
the 1SG came back, smiling, handed him his hat
it was full of cash ~ he did not know how much

The 1SG said, there was a special formation made
men of valor were told, what happened to his wallet
the 1SG passed his hat around for voluntary help
and every soldier even the Drill Sergeants ~ gave

1SG emptied his hat, counted the money donated
it was more than twice the amount he had lost
tears running down his cheek, he just can't hold
tears of happiness, blessings from the heavens
from his fellow soldiers never to be forgotten

Years passed, in his heart images~faces are etched
Harris, Dyer, Ford, Tadlock, imprinted in his brain
wherever they are, eternal friends they will remain
someday~somehow their paths will criss-cross again...


FOS Weekly Form Challenge ~ Narrative Poem
Moderated/Hosted by Bronze Dragon

By XRifles

© 2010 XRifles (All rights reserved)


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