January 9th…“DID YOU EVER MEET A GERMAN SOLDIER FROM WORLD WAR I?”
POEM – “His Memories Were Truly No Picnic” by N. Elliott Noorlun
There sat old Henry, In his webbed lawn chair,
While shady winds tousled, His silver gray hair,
And into the distance, Beyond us he’d stare,
To memories still fresh, In his heart of care.
It was our church picnic, With fun all around,
The fresh scents of food, And children’s fun sound,
When somehow the topic, Turned to soldiers on ground,
And the horrors of war, That Henry had found.
So young he was, During World War One,
A tall handsome German, Someone’s sweetest son,
For the Kaiser he fought, With his comrades were one,
Till they lost the war, And all came undone.
Henry spoke of the carnage, That that war did cause,
Seeing the blood of man, And animals he’d pause,
To reflect on the loss, Oh if only there were gauze,
To assuage the suffering, From war’s ghastly clause.
Back home towards Germany, Defeated troops trod,
T’was nary a patch, Of untouched sod,
Just bombed out craters, Stiff bodies like a rod,
As demoralized soldiers, Their footsteps would plod.
With World War One over, Henry made the fine choice,
To sail for America, And find his new voice,
New land, new work, And a time to rejoice,
And his marriage to Rose, Who was like a Rolls Royce!
So when you see, A soldier old,
Start up a visit, And be so bold,
For inside each one, Is a story to be told,
Of times in their life, Waiting to unfold.
Norwegian Farmer's Son 