For My Father, Robert H. Phillips
Captain US Army, WWII, China/Burma/India


MY DAD

My dad............
sat in the dark
cried out in the night
never ate rice
had a strong sense of "right" -
Hid in a phone booth
when he came home
straight off the bus
and feeling alone.
Not sure quite yet
that his family was real;
not sure, inside,
quite how he should feel;
fought hand to hand
till a soldier was dead
(which must have replayed
many times in his head) -
Struck out at my mom
thinking she was the foe.
She woke him too fast,
and he woke too slow.
"Don't waste your food
when children are dying"
(he would have known -
he'd seen them crying)....
I wish he had told us
what happened to him.
Sometimes we were angry
when he seemed so grim.
Scared of the outbursts
he often went through;
He was my Dad
and I say this to you.
I'm just fitting together
the man that I knew -
with the man who re-lived
in his dreams
WWII.

Spring, a time of new birth
In the flowers which seem to have remained dormant
For ages not just for months
In the budding and filling out of trees
In the grass mown for the first time
In the songs of the birds
Returned from a winters’ journey.

Spring is also the time of faith
The celebration of the Passover
And the blood of a lamb
Would save the young.
The celebration of Easter
And the blood of a man
Would save the world.

Each and every religion
Has their special beliefs
And each has the faithful few devote believers
Who hold true to their beliefs
Regardless of the opinions of others.
A man in a yarmulke,
A woman’s veiled face,
A man with dreadlocks,
A lady with a third eye,
All can draw a second glance
By those who are different
From the wearer;
The faithful.

It is in the differences
That we become more alike.
It is a willingness to stand up for our beliefs
To let others see our devotion
To a calling
Something more than
The face looking back at us
From the mirror.

It is a faith in mankind
That must be your calling
To wake each morning
Some days having slept in the same clothes
For what seems like ages
To face an enemy,
Not based upon their difference
But driven by hatred
A hatred that runs deep and cold
In the souls of the angry
Vile, wicked, blind men.
Men who can not see,
Men who can not hear,
Men who can not think for themselves.

You fight an enemy that has no borders
That hides in homes
Drives a car like you and me
An enemy that has cleaver disguises
An innocent child
An old, crippled woman,
Or the face of a friend,
All in the name of evil.

An evil that has no spring,
No hope for rebirth.
An evil that teaches hate
Even for yourself.
An evil that consumes all hope
Consumes all joy
That feeds on death and destruction
Not a religion
Not a government
But a cult
Brainwashed by propaganda
That everyone is an enemy
That even your own life is disposable.
An all consuming evil
Which was not destroyed
In a Berlin Bunker
With the single shot to his head.

Your enemy did not die
In the hanging of a single man
For just like the hatred from years ago
This evil, though orchestrated
By one man,
He did not act alone.
Hitler never once turned on the gas,
Light the furnaces,
Shot a bullet in a firing squad,
Or first hand participated in other hellish acts
That killed my Grandmother’s family.
Nor has that evil and hatred
In Iraq come from the acts of just one man.
In the hearts and minds
Of dark and evil men
That hatred has spread
To infest the land
Killing men,
Women,
Babies.

You have a belief,
A deep and unshakeable belief
That led you to the military.
A belief that mankind is worth saving.
The mankind with all its differences
All its beliefs and religions
Has a right to life;
A life without hatred
A life without evil
A life without fear
A life with a future
A life with hope.

I can not begin to know
The hell you have seen.
The vile, sickness of hatred.
The harm one man can inflict upon another.
The vicious cancer that man possesses.
Yet you still can believe
That mankind is worth saving.
That deep inside the worst insurgent
Is a minuscule bit of hope.
It is that belief
That keeps you going
Through 24 hour plus days
Placing you in harms way.
Keeping you from those you love
Those who give you strength,
Joy, and happiness.
You, the American soldier,
Sailor, airman, and woman
You are in the cold winter’s journey
Disguised in the hot,
Parched desert
Of Iraq
The mountains
of Afghanistan,
The many oceans, seas, and bays,
In the cloudless skies;
Wherever hatred raises it ugly head,
You are the faithful of this world
The devote, religious men and woman
Not afraid to wear the colors;
The red for blood,
The blue for justice,
And white for peace
Throughout the world.

Stay strong my brothers and sisters
Though your winter lingers
And the hope for new birth
Seems farther away than it was a week ago!
Look deep inside yourself
See the deep faith you have
That mankind is good,
The mankind is decent,
That mankind is special,
In each of our different and unique beliefs,
We all cherish peace
And we truly support you
For making so many sacrifices
To see that it is peace, hope, joy, and love
That reign supreme.

Your spring will come in time
Stand strong in your faith
Hold your head high and know
That you have our prayers,
Our support,
Our encouragement,
God’s love,
And my undying thanks
And gratitude.

Amen


By Amy Lou Peterson 4/7/07

Top of the morning my loving troop
You're a great GI in a mighty group

To me you're as cool as one can be
The best of the lot, they all must see

Do put on a brogue and do your thing
If you feel the urge, a tune you'll sing

And If you can't find some green to wear
Just pull out the bucks, green backs I swear

Watch for that Leprechaun, "Patio Door"
Of course he's no match for you I'm sure

You may see his friend, "Old Patio Tool"
He'd not stack up to how you could rule

Now tell me the truth, ain't this so grand
The Emerald Isle, perched in your hand

May St. Patrick's Day hold loads of fun
Through laughter and joy for everyone

God Bless you on this and each new day
You make me so proud, my troop to stay

©2005 Roger J. Robicheau

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