War

Contents:

The Piano Played – https://azrockdodger.com/2025/08/16/the-piano-played/

Unbowed, Chap 1: Damn Yankee & Chap 2: Farm Boy- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/01/10/damn-yankee/

Chap 3: Montgomery- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/01/21/chapter-2-montgomery/

Chapter 4: Squatter– https://azrockdodger.com/2025/02/06/chapter-4-squatter/

Galvanized Rebel (Historical Fiction)– https://azrockdodger.com/2025/01/04/galvanized-rebel/

Resolution-( Historical Fiction) A Civil War Story- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/01/01/resolution/

Hollywood Marine– https://azrockdodger.com/2024/11/10/hollywood-marine/

Unbowed- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/11/11/unbowed/

Homecoming– https://azrockdodger.com/2024/10/12/homecoming/

A Storm Called Vera- (Story) https://azrockdodger.com/2024/07/23/a-storm-called-vera/

Andersonville- )Poem) Andersonville – Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies (azrockdodger.com)

The Bearer of the Flag- (Story)- https://azrockdodger.com/2024/05/01/the-bearer-of-the-flag/

Peace- (Poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2024/01/13/peace/

Wake Island © – (Poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2023/11/04/wake-island/

The Man at the Post Office- (poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2023/11/11/the-man-at-the-post-office/

Midway Survivor Harry Ferrier- https://azrockdodger.com/2023/06/10/midway-june-4-1942/

Mail Call- (poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2023/06/10/mail-call/

The Medfield Massacre: King Philip’s War 1876– https://azrockdodger.com/2023/05/20/the-medfield-massacre/

Valhalla’s Call- (a poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2023/05/29/valhalla/

Crypto (Or Why I Hate John Walker)– https://azrockdodger.com/2023/04/14/crypto/

Karl- (a Poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2023/01/28/karl/

Christmas Flap– (a poem) https://azrockdodger.com/2022/12/24/christmas-flap/

Devotion– A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/11/11/devotion/

Just Give Me Tomorrow– A Poem- https://wordpress.com/post/azrockdodger.com/3525

Dachau- A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/?p=3287

Torpedo 8- A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/05/24/torpedo-8/

Bucha– A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/04/07/bucha/

-Putin is a Jerk- A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/03/14/putin-is-a-jerk/

-Girl Disrupted- A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/03/11/girl-disrupted/

-The Colors of Ukraine -A Poem- https://azrockdodger.com/2022/03/03/the-colors-of-ukraine/

-“Doc” -A Poem “Doc” – Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies (azrockdodger.com)

-Humble Al’s Grenade -A Poem

-Rumble of the Guns -A Poem

-The Eleventh Hour -A Poem

-Boot Camp -A Poem https://azrockdodger.com/2021/06/15/boot-camp/

-Mortared Again-A poem about PTSD https://azrockdodger.com/2021/06/30/mortared-again/

-Vampire Liberty-A poem https://azrockdodger.com/2021/08/13/vampire-liberty/

Soldier, We love You-Free Verse https://azrockdodger.com/2021/08/31/soldier-we-love-you/

-Wartime Books

Humble Al’s Grenade

We called him “Humble” Al, I was proud to be his pal,

No matter what went down, you could sure depend on Al.

In Sixty-Five we sailed off to war, playin’ Crazy Eights,

Not knowin’ where or when we’d ever see the states.

 His weapon was a solder gun, the .45 was just for show,

His craft was fixin’ radios, with tubes that hum and glow.

We set up near Da Nang, while I made my wires sing,

Headquarters Ninth Marines, no peace to ever bring.

Then the day comes for returnin’ to the world.

Back where frag grenades never will be hurled.

Fly back to the Rock, we’re waitin’ for a ship,

That Golden Gate will open and end our senior trip.

We’ll brag about the exploits we have and haven’t done,

But Humble Al, he ain’t thru with havin’ all his fun.

His clothing bag is all fixed up with a secret pocket,

Damn thing holds a hand grenade, at least it ain’t a rocket.

Of grenades I know but little, I only threw just one,

Still, I’d have to say the bang was kinda’ fun.

Grenades they come in many shapes and sizes,

You gotta’ pick the right one when the need arises.

You don’t grab a frag when a smoke grenade will do.

A thermite one will turn your equipment into molten goo.

I look him in the eye, and ask, “What the hell is this?”

“A lil’ ol’ grenade, that the Commandant won’t miss.

Back home on some late night, I’m gonna’ pull the pin,

If’n I wake the dead, but hurt no one, it’s really not a sin.”

About that time a typhoon blows in from the China Sea,

Quonset huts are fragile, to safer digs we flee.

Mountin’ up on cattle cars, all but Al and me,

He lingers for a while, his nerves it’s gotta’ be.

He’s gonna’ hide that lil’ ol’ frag in an vacant locker,

Now I start to think, Al ain’t really off his rocker.

Minneapolis will see no disturbin’ of the peace,

Now that humble Al his mischief will he cease.

The storm has passed, we’re returnin’ to the hut,

I look at Al, and I can tell he’s in an awful rut.

So I figure somethin’ just ain’t quite all right.

His locker it is open, with no grenade in sight.

No one says a thing, it’s like it never was,

Al would spend his life, breakin’ no more laws.

Now you might be thinkin’ this tale is just a lie,

I’ll swear it’s mostly true and you never need to pry.

LDT April 23. ‘21

I served with Al Chiodo in the Far East in’64-’65.

I lost track of him when we got back to Frisco.

He died in 2016.

“Fair seas and following winds.”

Wonder if he ever told anyone this story?

Semper Fi!

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The Rumble of the Guns

The Rumble of the Guns

As the last hour of peace slowly slips away,

Will we even make through to see another day?

A meadow filled with blossoms all the colors true,

Crimson ones remind us of the blood that we may spew.

A daisy white and pure sways gently in the breeze,

Somewhere a mother’s prayin’ down upon her knees.

Azure petals clinging softly to the dew,

Will the morrow tell us all our fears are true?

We listen hard against the ever-growing storm,

Of lives that never blossomed seemin’ so forlorn.

Upon someone else’s alter will we consecrate our sons,

Do you hear the sound of thunder or the rumble of the guns?

LDT Jan, ’20

The Eleventh Hour

The flamin’ shells were dropping with an awful roar,

The troops were all ‘a hopin’ to see an end to war.

As Tommy and Doughboy, hunker in a trench,

The bodies of the dead are puttin’ up a stench.

The hollow-eyed Poilus, his nerves are so long shot,

The Hun across the way ain’t got no better lot.

One last charge is ordered, a yard or two is gained,

Soon the fight is over, was that not explained?

Lonesome as an eagle, a Nieuport engine roars,

As up above the carnage an aviator soars.

The last shell is fired, they wish it were a dud,

For all the grimy warriors hidin’ in the mud.

The Maxim makes one last rata-tat-tat,

Gunners hopin’ that it will be the end of that.

The Mauser and the Enfield go silent on the line,

Breathin’ once again, the feelin’ so divine.

Tommy pokes his tin pot up above the rim,

Sees a German soldier starin’ back at him.

The Neiuport loops and dives, victory to claim,

Maybe he’s forgotten the dead and the lame.

The Hun will quit and pack up, then he heads for home,

Thankful he ain’t lying ‘neath some Gallic farmer’s loam.

The Doughboy he is puffed, full of Yankee pride,

Democracy is saved, he took the noble side.

The War To End All Wars is over and it’s done,

Hopin’ and a’ prayin’ there ain’t another one.

LDT Nov 11, 2020

Wartime Books

Here are some classic old books that are now available as inexpensive Kindle books.

Daring and Suffering: A History of the Great Railroad Adventure. (1863) William Pittenger.

This is a first person account of the attempt by Union soldiers to capture a Confederate train and wreak havoc on the important rail line between Georgia and Tennessee. The author, William Pettinger, was one of the survivors of this daring caper for which he earned The Medal of Honor. His small party penetrated Confederate lines and captured a locomotive under the eyes of a large rebel encampment. Their plan to lay waste to the rail line supplying the troops opposing their Army was foiled by quick-thinking railway employees. Another locomotive was commandeered and thus began one of the most exciting chases in American history. The “Engine Thieves” tried everything they could to slow their pursuers. Rails were loosened, cars uncoupled, wires cut, ties thrown on the roadbed, Nothing worked, largely because they kept having to wait for oncoming trains. The chase would cover over 50 miles in not much over an hour. That was warp speed in 1862. Ultimately running out of fuel and water, the raiders were forced to abandon the train and flee on foot. Most were captured, Seven were executed. The rest endured a year in dismal Confederate prisons before gaining freedom through a prisoner exchange. Much of the story concerns prison conditions, escape attempts and efforts to survive. Pettinger proved very resourceful in gaining information on the war from his captors and befriending imprisoned Southern “Union Men , sympathetic jailers and Black prisoners and workers. He became deeply religious as the result of his experience and ended up a Methodist pastor after the war. The book is well-written and reveals the author’s quick wit, ingenuity and empathy for others.