A brush with an old sage:

Veterans Day

by Hal Swift

Sheriff Freddie Marks and Shorty Sanders are settin' on the back porch of Shorty's Place, thinkin' about the Veterans Day celebration, just past.  Shorty and the sheriff both were in the Korean War, so they know somethin' of what bein' a veteran is about.  Freddie was in the Army, and Shorty was a Navy man.

Freddie was one of those men who run wire from a rear command post to a forward position, so the officers can talk to each other on their field telephones.  Shorty was a gunner on a small ship that provided cover for what men like Freddie were doin'.

Anyway, Freddie says, "Have you talked with young George Green since he come back from Iraq?"

Shorty says, "Matter of fact, we went out for a ride last Saturday--me on my Morgan, and him on his paw's big ol' roan.  Didn't do much talkin', though.  Not at first, anyway."

Freddie says, "Yeah, I know.  When I got back I didn't much wanta talk about anything, either.  You think George is gonna be okay?"

"Oh yeah," Shorty says.  "Like a lotta boys, it'll take 'im a while.  He's in that special place, though--where he's here, but he's not here, either."

"I know that feelin'," says Freddie.  "What got 'im to talkin'?"

Shorty says, "Well, I didn't push 'im, y'know?  We just rode along enjoyin' the sunshine, and he's not sayin' a word.  He's just lookin' around, eyes wide open, like everything he sees is new and interestin'.  The smell of the sage is real strong, and he's takin' deep breaths, suckin' it in like it ain't gonna last.

"Finally, I says, it's good to be back home again, ain't it."

He says.  "Yeah, Shorty it is.  I guess I just don't feel like I'm home yet.  Know what I mean?" 

"I says, yeah, me and most of my buddies felt the same way."

George says, "Yeah, I imagine so."  We ride along quiet for a couple minutes, then he says,  "I'd heard it said that 'War is Hell,' and I gotta tell ya, whoever said that, got it right--I seen it, first hand." 

His voice cracks when he says, "I thought several times I was gonna die--not see this land again."  He clears 'is throat and says, "But I got through, and I come back home.  And ever'where I look, I keep seein' all the reasons I was over there... shootin' at people who are tryin' to shoot me.

"Sometimes," he says, "I hear my little brothers outside playin', and I think of all the children who're dyin' over there."  He takes a deep breath and says, "When it really gets to me, I saddle up and go out and ride. 

"I look up at them mountains over there, with all that clean, white snow, and I just can't get enough of 'em.  Sometimes, I ride till it gets dark, then I lay down on my blanket and watch the stars 'till I go to sleep.

"The other morning, when the sun comes up, I just laid there and pert near cried my eyes out.  This maybe sounds strange, but... I feel like I can't get enough of this clean air, and clear, blue sky."

Freddie sighs and says, "Yeah, I know what the boy means.  You want everybody to know how great it is here, but it feels like folks just aren't payin' attention.  They don't see it, they don't know it, and they don't care."

"You got it," Shorty says, "And young George sums it up just right when he says he wishes ever'one here could know how great this country of ours is, without they have to go to war to find out."

Shorty and Freddie sit silently for a couple of minutes, leanin' back in their chairs, arms folded, eyes closed. 

When Freddie lets out a long, slow sigh Shorty looks over at 'im, and sees what looks like a tear runnin' down the big man's cheek. 

"You cryin'?" Shorty says.

Freddie takes a deep breath, then lets it out and says, "Yeah...  but it ain't for me."

Shorty takes 'is red bandana out of 'is hip pocket, blows 'is nose. and says, "I know what y'mean."

•••

(Ed. Note:  For a closer look at Hal Swift's cowboy poetry, go to http://www.cowboypoetry.com/halswift.htm )