This poem was submitted by Joe Hollywood of the 71st Squadron. The poem was written by William Bussey- A Marine with the 1st Marine Division, Korea
A GENERATION PASSING
By William Bussey - A Marine from the 1st Marine Div., Korea
The lengthening shadows beckon, softly whispering a silent sound,A sound you only hear in your mind, it's quiet, like a snow flake hitting the ground. The shadows seem to be telling me, that although it's almost evening, it's all right, For while my hour is late, soft and peaceful, is the promise of the coming night.
There was a time, many years ago, that the night was filled with caution and fear, Those nights drifted away like a cloud, only to return as an old wind brings them near. As I pause and remember, places, men and things. Old memories drift into view,I often relish the thoughts of times past, when men were good, hearts true.
How I miss the closeness of those bygone times, words were not so freely spoken, You could count on the men who shared your life, words once given, seldom broken. The world has changed from those past days, no longer are times hard, or life bad.But we have lost the meaning of, God and Country, The finest cause a nation ever had.
When the time for sacrifice comes again, and it surely will, who will answer the call. I see little patriotism in this land, few of our youth know the meaning of the Wall. Mention Korea, Pusan, Inchon, Chosin, to someone under 50 and at you they will stare, they niether know or care, of the thousands who were wounded or died there.
Are there many today who know what Hitler and Tojo meant to our time. The word holicaust, is as horrible to their minds, as it is to mine. Normandy invasion, D Day, is it a movie or a book, what's it mean anyway. Tarawa, Iwo, Guadalcanal, and all those stinking islands, oh how we did pay.
Our schools are only factories, the only interest is, just push them through, teachers underpaid, while athletes and politicians get what they think is their due. Millions for a few months of playing a game, graft rampant in those we elect, I wonder how long our country will survive, if these are the values we select.
So, as my evening draws near, I can only hope that those behind me will learn,that this wonderful land, and opportunities of life, is something they didn't earn, but it was bought and paid for by mighty men, who knew and could plainly see,that what we have here today, was because they knew that, Freedom Isn't Free.
So, as my evening draws ever near, I can only hope that those behind me will learn, That this wonderful land, and opportunities of life, is something they didn't earn. But that it was bought and paid for by mighty men, who knew and could clearly see, That what we have here today, was because they knew, That Freedom Isn't Free.
Submitted by Joe Hollywood 71st Sq.
