Killed and killed.

A re-write. No-one wins in war.

Killed and killed

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

 A true and sad story of the permanent wounds of war.

Killed and killed..

On Friday night my father drank his rum.

He would come and wake me up late in the night.I watched him and listen to his war stories.

He would start calling out to lost friends.

I would sit and pity him for his great pain and sadness.

.He drank every night to try to hide the burden.

He told me. I enlisted son, I don’t know why for Korea and stay a second tour.

The blood infested my soul.

I killed and killed.

I watched my friends die.

He would sit alone and talk to ghost of men left in un-marked graves.

I would carry him to bed.

He would whisper to me. They are not coming home.

My father had no fear.

He was a hard and cold man who loved laughter and woman.

God, those memories drove him crazy.

When he quit drinking he never talks of war.

He told me one time. No-one cares about my time in the war.

He was another crazy Ojibwa man killing for the USA.

Ain’t no rewards now or then.

My father held all his Army decoration with great pride.

He was proud to defend his country.

He told me. I know soldiers must fight to keep us free.

My father died a young man of 61 years old.

The old Soldiers came and gave him a 21 gun salute.

I wonder would he trade the nightmares and the blood on his hands to be clean of a war never won.

                       COYOTE

                     1998

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[JE Falcon]

Emotions run deep when war is the subject, and words try to make some sort of statement as to what it was all about. But I see vanity, vanity, all is vanity when it comes to the likes of the Napoleons and the Hitlers, and for the kids on the block that form gangs. Your words are strong and tell a heartfelt story. So may God bless your poor father, and all the others who are caught in this vicious web of lies and blindness.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree my friend. Violence and anger. No-one can win. I pray one day. We learn. Nuclear weapons and rifles, not the way to peace. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Ken e Bujold]

the closing question of this achingly beautiful poem is a question it might take an eternity to answer, but one that nevertheless needs asking
beautiful poem John

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Ken. My father did love his decorations. He stood his ground till his body gave-up.

[Gee]

So sad. Soldiers sent to keep us free only to end up trapped with the horrors of war as bedfellows.
A well penned piece Coyote that reflects what many endured

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear friend. I entered the Army with the Vietnam ending. Many soldiers were never right. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Gee]

My pleasure my friend

[W. Barrett Munn]

Your honesty is so raw and enduring it is impossible to stop reading once started.
Thanks for sharing your pain.

Winston

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Winston. It is sad. We keep having more wars. And no-one can win.

[Dennis Wolf]

For some reason, this song comes to mind

https://youtu.be/rINCpGzgwAg

Cheers on a job well done.

[Coyote Poetry]

Phil Ochs was a famous singer a long time ago. He killed himself. A old song with a forever meaning. I have seen old soldiers, legless, armless begging for money. Our USA, not kind to the Veterans. Thank you Dennis Wolf. Tonight my mind is clear. I will return and I will read your stories.

[Dennis Wolf]

Hey, it was a great read.
Cheers

[keith]

you assured me my comments are welcome ...
that said, i have mastered many skills in my life but none compared to being warrior
i hear i read about confirmed kills from the newer generations
when did counting kills become a brag point?
i am a void inside my soul
i know no lov
i know no compassion
most of what i contain is carried over from before my time as a killer

anyone that brags about killing ... never mind brother it doesn't matter

you know i know your father still knows

i have no friends anymore ... they have either died or forgotten me
nobody wants to be around old warriors
i have very seldom talked about my days past but i am unable to hide the scars left behind

the door to my days is closed forever
it is the memories of locking them away that haunt me every mutherfukin day!

i do not wish war even upon my enemy

[Coyote Poetry]

Hello Keith and I appreciate the comment. The war taught my father to kill better. He wasn't that kind. When men or women kill, see dead friends. Hard to hide. My stepfather fought in Germany 1943-1945. He never discussed the WW2. Thank you for reading and the comment. We don't need many friends. Just the people, who accept us as we are.

[softlyfall]

Throughout all of history, perhaps from the time the first self aware being crawled out of primordial ooze and stood upright, there have been bloody battles, large and small. It is the the result of baser human instincts, rallied by a charismatic leader or unbearable oppression or both.
I cannot imagine anybody escapes being touched by it, at least through family. I cannot even count the number of soldiers in my family tree who never came home. 58 died on Flodden Field alone, if you include distant cousins.
I hate war. I was part of the Resistance, though I was only 12 when it was formed. Joan Baez was a few years ahead of me in school and that influenced my much older brother, then me.
On the other hand, I respect and admire soldiers. That seems conflicting but it is not. We need the military just like we need the police. They deserve respect. And thanks.
And when they are forced into war, I admire their courage and grieve the loss of life but do not blame the soldiers.
I hate war itself. Soldiers are pawns in that deadly game.

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear poet. Soldiers are pawns for the rich men. I pray one day. War can become myth and tale. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[ROSALIND]

Awe iam so sorry for your loss a very hard thing to deal with at any age.
A lot of people just pass it off with a normal part of life.
With hardly no empathy which I find very sad.
Your poem talked about loss loneliness grief.
So emotional powerful peice of poetry but yet a sad story of such bravely.
Thankyou for you for sharing..

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Rosalind. No-winners in war.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Members of my family have served in active duty during armed conflicts. They all have passed on now and part of them as exemplified by this powerful poem they left in the field of blood and battle for those who didn't make it home. For this they felt the weight of being here when part of what made it home no longer is. TFS.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you, dear Frederick. I was a soldier, and I lost many friends. My father rejoined and he fought in the Vietnam too. This is the only thing; he was good at.

[Miss Sharon]

(I wonder would he trade the nightmares and the blood on his hands to be clean of a war never won.) Yes...I bet he would. So sorry for your loss...and his. ~Sharon

[Miss Sharon]

May I add...you may have retired from regular work hours, but PLEASE don't retire from writing. We need talented writers here! ~Sharon

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you, dear Sharon. I have been a writing fool. 350 poems and stories in eleven months. Writing is my peace for 50 plus years.