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Poetry: Combat

Uncle Joe



He never spoke
Of the war
In little bits and pieces
From army buddies
We knew that he had
Fought on the front lines
That is all we knew

He never mouthed
A word in sixty two years

So it came as quite a surprise
The day I sat with him
In the hospital lounge
Waiting for his wife
To come through surgery

Out of the blue
He spoke of the war
Like a water sprout
He began to confide


To me in earnest
His eyes transfixed
Looking not at me
But through me

For killing bodies
And saving souls
This is my reward
He whispered;
With hands shaking
He pulled out a medal
A purple heart
Attached to a ribbon

Each word from his mouth
Caused my heart to quicken
He passed me the medal
His withered hands shaking
It felt strange in my hand
As though it might
Awaken the dead

It was a half a minute
Before he spoke again
As though his mind
Might have slipped
Searching for the long ago
Forcing it to re-surface again

I took one in the shoulder
One in the leg too, he said
It's only after
I lost my buddy Charlie
Did I numb my heart
And lose my soul

I noticed the mist in his eyes
The lump in his throat
But without hesitation
He continued:

In life and death situations
You face difficult truths
Where fast action is required
You need to be faster
Then the grenade
Poor Charlie, he was quick
But not quick enough...

You don't need the details
He said in a matter-of-fact tone
They are too gruesome
For anyone to have to know
Or to live with

Just remember
As I have all these years
Innocence is far too beautiful
To speak or hear of warfare

Nothing in life is ever as bad
As your imagination could paint it
Except war

Even honor and justice
And a purple heart
Cannot save a soul

Learn more about this author, Nancy Browne.
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