Marine

Marine

The Marine holds his wife's hand
Going from Mass to his car
Covered in stickers of his Marine service:
A flag of Vietnam where he fought,
A Marine logo on the back window,
The Purple Heart WV license plate.

They hold hands and softly walk.
His wounds now make it impossible
For him to drive
So his wife takes the wheel.

The violence he suffered in Vietnam
Is still buried deep inside the hidden room
Every warrior protects and hides
From the preying eyes of those others
Who will never understand the total horror
Of mortar fire exploding a friend
He loved like his own brother.

Or the sight of blood flowing from arteries
In a bleed out of life in seconds,
The screams of the wounded Brother Marines
Faint due to rocket, bullet and shell concussion.

The Marine has made his peace
With the loved ones he lost when young
In a war that stole his youth.

He knows God understands his suffering,
Why he had to take life and risk his life,
Now places his trust in his good wife
Who drives him out of the church parking lot.

She will soon receive the American Flag
A grateful nation will provide her

At the cemetery plot where she will
One day join him in the ground.

He understands devotion to duty
Requires making it to the long run, 
Surviving infirmity due to the wounds,
Physical, psychological, and spiritual, yes,  
But more importantly, the devotion to the God Who
When the bullets took his brothers,
For whatever Divine Reason, spared him.

He grew comfortable with that mystery
And lived in service to his family,
Community, and nation for 60 years
After his life was spared in the jungle heat,
Rats, disease and boiled flesh of combat
Long ago in sacrifice in Vietnam.
He knows devotion and duty are Divine
And only Marines know why.

This is a poem I wrote today to honor an old Marine Vet and his wife holding hands and very slowly walking to their car after the 11:00 a.m. Mass at St. Bernadette's Catholic Church, Hedgesville, WV

December 11, 2022

Bruce Vincent Joseph Curley