Veteran's Day

My Dad, his friends, his brothers, all served in WWII.  Of this I am sure, no matter what training, how prepared they thought they were, they had no clue, absolutely no clue, as to what serving their country meant, fresh out of high school, in 1944, in WWII. Because he was half Scandinavian, because he was stoic, because, perhaps there were no words for this when he was sober, I know little of my dad’s experience in the Navy, except for the story of when the aircraft carrier he was on was bombed, and he lived. He would tell me about it when he'd been drinking, time and time again. 

18 years old

Navy man flying overseas

to serve on a huge ship

there’s things I can say

things I cannot say

things I cannot talk about

but I am ready to go

Billie my girl is waiting for me

back in Minneapolis

back in high school

my younger brother will take her 

to her dances

keep an eye on her

for me

Letters I write

pass through the ranks

location information

blackened out

security is priority

“loose lips sink ships”

secrets I hold 

Stationed on an aircraft carrier 

the ship has been hit 

and I am ordered to lock down

the damaged sections

the parts that are smoking 

on fire

men screaming help me help

I can only lock the doors

as quickly as I can 

their voices fading in the din

in the roar

in the thump thump 

thumping of my own heart

beating and heaving inside my chest

I never knew that for the rest of 

my life

this would haunt me

chase me

find me crying in a beer to my 

children 

who could only imagine in horror

Once I got home and married

my young love

once we became parents

to eight count them eight 

children

paying bills on Saturday

church on Sunday

Jesus could not take 

away the noise

the cries for help

the weariness 

I carried

the burden I bore

that I am honored 

for