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Friday, August 17, 2007

What War Means To Me . . .



So many years ago, I was a gung-ho youth. To me, war was a child-like adventure and Vietnam held my fascination. I talked to every veteran I knew. Along with the stories, the nightly news and oh yes, the body counts of those fallen soldiers each day. Never did I ever expect to be convinced that war was hell.

I can not forget the smoke of a firefight and the dark rubber bags being shuffled off to a waiting Huey. I still hear the rhythm of its blade slicing in the background as a reporter tells the story . . . We forget the hurts of war, the soldier’s and their loved ones. Pain knows no cause. There are no favorites, only survivors.

I remember a time, a friend and I were having a drink in a bar. Monty got up to get another round. He was gone only a moment. I hadn’t noticed. Two men walked in, causing a raucous. I heard the sound of fists connecting. Turning in my seat, Monty had one by the throat. The other was lying unconscious on the ground. Jumping to my feet, I pulled my friend off the man. It was then I knew, gazing at the Asian youth, war had raised its ghostly head once more.

I am not afraid to die . . . Not for myself. I’m afraid of feeling others pain, which I can not control. I don’t know how to console a child after losing a father, having to grow up alone or a mother burying a child before their own time. I’ve felt the pity for those crippled from a mine and of those living with regret from the loss of a buddy who died when it should have been them.

There was a time when we never would have allowed a woman into combat. I wish we still thought like men. War is hell and our children do not need to learn what we have learned so many, many times before.

I never forgot the promise of my youth . . . Never would I allow another Vietnam, never another needless war, but really what could I do?


Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004

Soon to come, Sleepless Nights


My Poetry at poemhunter.com


My Other Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
The Moon Also Rises
The World Outside My Window
This Side Of Midnight
Dan’s Room 2 Write


Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.

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2 comments:

shyloh said...

I am not afraid to die . . . Not for myself. I’m afraid of feeling others pain, which I can not control. I don’t know how to console a child after losing a father, having to grow up alone or a mother burying a child before their own time. I’ve felt the pity for those crippled from a mine and of those living with regret from the loss of a buddy who died when it should have been them.

What a beautiful soul you have. This reminds me of me!

Amritbir Kaur said...

What poignant thoughts you have portrayed! I too feel the same about war. Soldiers fight and die for no fault of theirs. It is we as people who are responsible for their suffering, because we have created boundaries.