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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Biographical · #2263010
A man just doing what must be done felt no need of medals.
Forgotten Medals

When my father died
I found them in a drawer
Blackened bits of bronze
Or tarnished silver
And wrinkled ribbon

I looked them up:
Canadian Voluntary Service
War Medal '39 - '45
Air Crew Europe
Just for being there

Dad worked air crew
Fixing shot-up planes
That made it back to base
Full of holes and blood
To send them up again.

He never talked much
About those days
Good times with mates
At village pubs
And good friends lost

Sneaking out AWOL
To be with girls
(One of whom became my mom)
Then sneaking back
A little war-time fun

Airfields where he worked
Prime targets for attack
He never spoke of death
Or fear or hate or pain
He must have felt

On war's periphery
Doing a needed job
And hoping to come home
No need of medals, Son,
For doing what needs done.

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