Barnstorming

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For my father on Memorial Day

It was always a part of what we knew about you-
Serving three long years in the South Pacific,
Spoken of obliquely
If asked about, but never really answered.

We knew you were a battalion leader
Knew you spent many nights without sleep,
Unsure if you’d see the dawn
Only to dread what the next day would bring.

We knew you lost friends
And your innocence;
Found unaccustomed strength
For the mama’s boy who cried too easily.

Somehow life had prepared you for this:
Pulling your daddy out of bars when you were ten
Watching him beat your mama
And finally getting big enough to stand in the way.

Tarawa, Saipan, Tinian beaches
Blood soaked battles won.
Now restored and recreated
As vacation resorts.

We let you go without knowing
Your full story–even Mom didn’t know.
You could not share the depth
Of horror…

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