Dillon W. Staas Jr. served in the occupation of Japan from 1947 to 1950, in Korea from 1950 to 1951 and in the United States from 1951 to 1953.
Ode to the Fallen Soldier
So many of our brothers who went to fight the war
Remain in that forgotten place; we see them here no more.
Their future has been forfeit; for freedom’s price is high.
And all of their tomorrows they gave for you and I.
Lest we forget their sacrifice; their glories go unsung.
Their deeds repeat on every street; their tale on every tongue,
For all our future happiness was bought by those who died,
Our gratitude must be brought forth; not hidden deep inside.
So in your daily musings and in your nightly prayer
Remember those brave heroes, and tell them that you care.
And ask our heavenly Father to take them to His breast,
Give each soldier peace and love, and grant eternal rest.
Not the Dying
It isn’t really dying that’s the hardest thing of all.
In fact it’s almost welcome when the reaper comes to call.
A soldier sees the face of death for days and days on end.
A brief respite, a time to think, and then he’s back again.
And when he’s in a firefight there isn’t time to care,
With bullets flying left and right and wounded everywhere.
There isn’t even time for fear, for sorrow nor for pain.
Nor thoughts of home, nor will he ever see his folks again.
The quiet, lonely, sleepless hours spent huddled in a hole
Without a single shell or shot, exact a fearsome toll.
A horrid fate he contemplates within his fear-filled mind,
The joys he took for granted once have all been left behind.
So pity not that soldier when he takes his final breath
For all his fears and sorrows melt into the coils of death.
But save it for the ones who stay to face their fate again.
Pity those he leaves behind to grieve for this poor man.