Poem Hunter
Still A Soldier
CR (May 19,1992 / Kodiak alaska)

Still A Soldier

When strength isn’t enough to lift my frail body from the ground, I look all around and see the flag and banners waving high towards the sky. When fear envelopes my heart and nothing is left of me but cold empty heart I remember all I had done to protect each of the people that watch me as I cry. Some of those people will stop and salute knowing what it cost me to be part of that troop. Let me take you back so you may know the truth of what happened that day I watched my life blow away. Cold and wet we bore on day in and day out making our way through enemy lines. We carried ourselves with pride and strength even though we knew at any moment we may all die. The youngest of us was just a boy so young but so determined to make us all proud. We stopped to rest in the cold of the night taking cover and keeping out of sight. Curled up together we begin to reminisce on what it was like before we all chose this. We laughed and cried and looked at pictures and letters from the people we left behind. As we begin to quiet down and fall asleep we hear a sound like little sneaking feet. I peak around and see the young boy walking off all on his own. Getting up from the ground I follow close behind being sure not to make a sound. When he stops I walk up to him and look him in the eyes. He looked sad and worried so I asked what it was that gave him that look. He laughed that I should have to ask as we all walked into certain death. He says he feels uneasy laying there like he is certain something is about to go wrong. As we sit just him and me talking as the night wore on we begin to fall weary of this never ending dark when the silence is broken by the unmistakable explosion of a bomb. I jump to my feet running to our troop but the smokes so heavy and the heats unbearable as I make my way closer to what remains of our bergaid. Where they used to lay is nothing but rubble and pieces of what used to be letters strewn all over the place and pictures of soldiers each with a weary face. I couldn’t believe it although I knew but I watched as everything burned I had no idea what to do. I hear a sound barely audible over the roar in my ears, the sound of pain and suffering. I walk around looking towards the ground as I see my fallen comrade lying in a pool of blood. I kneel before him and take his head in my lap as I try to comfort him and make his pain less. I see tears streaming down his face as his life slowly fades away when his final breath is gone I cradle him in my arms crying on the outside and feeling as if I’m dyeing on the inside. I’m being shaken out of my reverie as I look around and see the young boy kneeling there with me tears streaming down his cheeks. He picks me up in his strong arms as we make our way to escape from harm. I feel so weak and confused as I lay in a hospital ripping out tube after tube. They say I shouldn’t have survived the blast telling me to try to remember what I was doing when it happened. I was with the young boy I say in a weak and weary voice, I was talking with him and safe out of harm. I don’t understand why their saying I was there. They say I should be dead but it’s a miracle I’m still alive. They say no boy was there everyone else but me died. I was lying there undercover when it happened that night, but unlike the others I had an angel at my side. Now as I sit on the ground at their graves I thank god he chose me to save. Although I’m not so sure what it inspires in me to see the flags and ribbons hanging high above the trees, I’m sure I’ll always remember that day as the day my life changed. I’m still a soldier and I still stand to fight but now I know not to question whether it’s right.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Comments (1)

Wow, that was sick with it grl...I know what u mean by a true definition of a soldier cause n Killa Cali soldiers die n the streets every day. Peace