ODE TO A GENERAL
Copyright 2008 -- 2009 , by Terry P. Rizzuti
When I was a young Marine in Vietnam
And times would get tough --
Incoming mortars, rounds flying,
People screaming, crying and dying --
I'd think of you, Dad,
And I'd picture you wearing your uniform,
With medals all over your chest,
And you'd be charging up some hill,
With a gung-ho look on your face.
And it would be then, that without fail,
A transformation would take place.
Give me strength in my roots, I’d yell.
GIVE ME STRENGTH IN MY ROOTS!
I am Terry, son of Terigo, son of Marco and Rosa.
I am Terry, son of Teresa, daughter of Thomaso and Angela.
I am not a particularly religious man,
And neither were you, Dad.
But one thing we both agreed on:
Nothing is destroyed, only transformed.
So I'm not sure where you are now,
Where this journey has taken you.
But one thing is clear:
I will join you someday; I will join you.
And before I do,
There is something I want you to know:
My heroes have always been soldiers,
And I salute you, my General; I salute you.
Two score and seven or more years ago
My father brought forth upon the
European continent his tremendous powers
Of observation as a forward observer
In the United States Army.
I call upon his spirit now;
I call upon his spirit
To resurrect those powers and use them
To guide me on the rest of my journey.
I love you, Dad, and I miss you.
Arivederci, my General!
Share
Print
Save