That's the difference. They care. And care is just another way to spell LOVE.
A poem dedicated to a loving man
I write poetry. You can read my poetry and see my photographs of the Korean War if you go to http://www.tjbooks.com. Here is a poem I wrote about an extremely brave machine gun sergeant who had love for his family and his men.
Machine Gun Sergeant
Saturday, April 2, 1999
Below the Wachon Reservoir,
We walked along the river,
And then across the fields.
Dieter said, "This is where
The air force caught the Chinese
With there carts and horses."
"That's the hill
Where the machine-gun sergeant
Climbed to help his men.
He was supposed to
Go home that day,
Not a war to win.
"The sergeant said,
'I know I don't have to fight,
I can stay back here and watch,
But my men are scared,
And their sergeant is new,
I’ll lead them one more time.'"
Dieter lowered his head
And then he said,
"The fire was very heavy.
They took the hill
That bloody day,
But the sergeant never made it."
We found a house
Still intact.
We were very much surprised.
An octagon with a center patio,
Where a family
Once cooked their meals.
This must have been
A happy place
Before the armies came.
Little children
At mother's knee,
An abundant life they had.
Dieter said,
"He has two kids."
I said,
"I thought him dead."
I looked at Probe,
His familiar name,
I said,
"Please tell me more."
I saw a tear run down his cheek,
It wasn't there before.
The sky was clear,
A glorious day,
And we walked the fields some more.
We found a can from Russia,
And Kowalski read the label.
"I know the town
Where this was made,
I know who made this ammo."
I looked at Probe,
He looked at me,
And this is what he said,
"The machine-gun sergeant
Was hit in the groin,
He said, 'I’d be better dead.'"
No workers toiled
In the beautiful fields,
The war had done its dirt.
I wondered where the families were,
Were they dead
Or hurt?
Tomorrow,
We go back on the line,
To Heartbreak Ridge they say.
I looked at Probe
And this I said,
"At least we've got today."
The sergeant
Didn't have to fight.
He'd done his job well,
But he climbed the hill,
And got maimed for life.
How could he think so ill?
When it's time to go home,
It's time to go,
To play with fate is bad.
"He's the bravest man I know,"
Said Probe,
"He did it to be right."
I said, "What about his
Wife and kids?
What about their plight?"
"He had no choice,"
Said Probe,
"He had to fight."
We walked along
The dusty road
That led us back to camp.
I thought,
"How brave he was!"
I think of him a lot.
Here's another little poem about that war.
967
Saturday, April 3, 1999
Now, that's a lot of lemons
If your making lemonade,
But if your counting ants,
It would hardly make a parade.
How about watermelons?
It would make quite a pile.
You could go from May through February
If you ate three each day.
How many American men died
In the 17th Infantry
Regimental Combat Team
In Korea?
The many Korean boys that served with us and died were not counted. I don't have the count on the Nigerians either.
You can't believe the love that Korean veterans have for each other. Going through life's trials with another human being brings with it a tremendous love for that person. Probe Dieter and I can read each other's minds even though he is in New York State and I'm in Idaho. I went home to Utah one time and I said to myself, Probe Dieter has been here. When I got back to Iowa, where I was teaching engineering at Iowa State University, I picked up the telephone and said, "Hey, Probe! Have you been looking for me?"
"Yes," he said. "I was in Utah and I couldn't find you."
On several occasions, I've picked up the telephone knowing it was Probe on the other line.
What is the most traumatic loss in a person's life?
You probably know that it is when a person loses his or her spouse. The relationship grows from the initial infatuation, to the love of courtship and marriage, and the increased love that bonds them together from living through life's trials and joys.
Each child that comes into a home, brings with it an enduring, eternal love. A touch of pain enters when the child leaves the nest, but more love comes as grandchildren are born. It's a process that never ceases until war or devastation from nature destroys the family. We see that everyday now, don't we. Some family links die off because no children were born for various reasons. Fortunately for mankind, the process goes on.
John T. Jones, Ph.D. (tjbooks@hotmail.com)is a retired R&D engineer and VP of a Fortune 500 company. He is author of detective & western novels, nonfiction (business, scientific, engineering), poetry, etc. Former editor of international trade magazine.
More info: http://www.tjbooks.com
Business web site: http://www.bookfindhelp.com (wealth-success books)
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