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Carlene M. Wojahn

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After you place your ad, take a look at this poem. In a few words, it says so much.

Just A Simple Soldier

He was getting old and paunchy
and his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he had fought in
and the deeds that he had done.
In his exploits with his buddies;
they were heroes, everyone.

And 'tho sometimes, to his neighbors,
his tales became a joke,
all his buddies listened,
for they knew whereof he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
for ol' Bob has passed away,
and the world's a little poorer,
for a Soldier died today.

No, he won't be mourned by many,
just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
quietly going on his way;
and the world won't note his passing;
'tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
their bodies lie in state,
while thousands note their passing
and proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories,
from the time that they were young,
but the passing of a soldier,
goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution,
to the welfare of our land,
some jerk who breaks his promise
and cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow,
who in times of war and strife,
goes off to serve his Country
and offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
and the style in which he lives,
are sometimes disproportionate,
to the service he gives.

While the ordinary soldier,
who offered up his all,
is paid off with a medal
and perhaps a pension, small.

It's so easy to forget them,
for it is so long ago,
that our Bob's and Jim's and Johnny's,
went to battle, but we know.

It was not the politicians,
with their compromise and ploys,
who won for us the freedom,
that our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
with your enemies at hand,
would you really want some cop-out,
with his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Soldier,
who has sworn to defend,
his home, his kin, and Country,
and would fight until the end?

He was just a common Soldier
and his ranks are growing thin,
but his presence should remind us,
we may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict,
then we find the Soldier's part,
Is to clean up all the toubles,
that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor,
while he's here to hear the praise,
then at least let's give him homage,
at the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline,
in the paper that might say:
OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY.

--Author Unknown

The Soldier

'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone

In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney with presents to give,

and to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about, a strange sight did I see,

no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand,

on the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,

a sober thought came through my mind.

For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,

I found the house of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,

curled upon the floor in this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,

not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I just read?

Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families I saw on this night,

owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world the children would play,

and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,

because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,

on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.

The very thought brought a tear to my eye,

I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,

"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice;

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,

My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,

I couldn't control it, I started to weep.

I kept watch for hours, so silent and still

and we both shivered from the cold night's chill.

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