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Wear A White Hat

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  • Joe Reed
    replied
    Warrior Sons

    Great job, Ed! Both my sons are past draft age these days, although they both signed up when they turned 18. I'm thankful that they didn't have to do and go and see what we did. I hope my 3 grandsons will also get a "bye" when they sign up, as well.
    Your words are most eloquent and have a deep meaning for those of us luck enough to have sons and grandsons.
    Semper Fi,
    Joe

    Leave a comment:


  • RickH
    replied
    Thanks Ed,

    Glad I got the chance to see and read this before anyone got the notion to zap it. Great reading and written from the heart.

    S/F
    RickH

    Leave a comment:


  • Kelly M. Lea
    replied
    Thanx for posting this Ed. I loved it. Gave me goosebumps from line 2 to the end!! I love reading original stuff that you guys pour from the heart. I am keeping this one!

    Hugs,

    Kelly

    Leave a comment:


  • Ed Egan
    started a topic Wear A White Hat

    Wear A White Hat

    WEAR A WHITE HAT



    I think we wore the white hat,
    And rode a white horse, too:
    My brother wrote, "Don't hate them",
    And "Eagles don't eat flies".
    (He meant the high-tech edge
    we had) but killing's basic:
    A stick, a stone
    Will do you just as well.
    We've been able
    Since Cain.
    We had the helos,
    But they had a plan,
    And secret armies
    Hidden in waiting.
    Don't hate them,
    But kill them as you must
    (as they will you).
    If you can imagine this:
    Kill them with dignity
    As you would die the same.
    Different, foe,
    Each
    A man.

    My brother wrote:
    He wasn't there, but he was right, and
    I flew straight, with bunghole tight,
    Resisting the urges
    Of fear and flight.

    They had many
    Good shots at me,
    In the air, on land,
    (Safe at sea);
    Didn't always miss.
    Yet I'm home, welcome or not.
    I beat the odds.
    Now home from the highlands and paddies,
    I work and hope for more.

    My future was reborn
    In that past;
    Pulled with pain
    And forceps scarred,
    From the womb of war
    As she lay writhing
    In the gore
    Of her creation.

    I found myself back then
    And grew up
    In a thoughtful hurry.
    Prayer and luck and flying skill
    Got me through
    (and a trained ear for where
    a rocket would hit).

    Now an aging ex-warrior
    Blessed with sons,
    Home I am, and home to stay;
    Loving my sons,
    For whom I fear
    That duty will summon
    Someday.

    The price of Freedom's
    Very high,
    As ever has it been;
    A long-term lease
    Not owned outright;
    Now and then, payment's due:
    The currency is blood.

    There are those who can,
    And those who can't,
    And those who won't,
    And those who will.
    Sons of mine,
    As I've loved you,
    Iíve cursed you.
    For of others, you can,
    And will, and must.

    In your genes is bred a duty code:
    When payment's due
    On our priceless home
    That we call Freedom:

    Go.

    Do your duty
    Through my tears
    And remember what I've taught you.
    Remember that I love you
    And remember who you are.
    Duty done, come home:
    Not with your shield or on it,
    But don't give it away.
    Wear the white hat
    And ride the white horse.

    I think that my brother
    Was talking about honor.





    This was written when I had 3 sons, and they were of an age when they could be called to war.
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