| The Handcart Boys |  |
|
He's lying in the
tree line, blood running down his arm
Listening for the sound of the Handcart boys, to remove him from
this harm.
He flew in on a modern jet that got shot down in this affray.
But he is no different than the wounded at Shiloh, trying to
survive, till they safely take him away.
In the dark of the night she waits with so much pain to bear;
Injured in the crash of her aircraft and now this seemly endless
nightmare.
Where is the chopper that will lift her from the smoke, the fire and
the pain?
Where are the Handcart boys: hurry, her life is beginning to drain?
He was wounded when a round slammed onto the "cruiser's" deck.
Shards of metal are protruding from his arm, shoulder and the right
side his neck.
The corpsman has stopped the bleeding; he's been prepared, to be
extracted in the night.
The Handcart boys are racing his way, and will be there before first
light.
Get in, get them out, and hurry back, inside the safety of our
lines.
It has been this way since ancient wars, to the battles of modern
times.
The two-wheel Handcart is the way the wounded were removed from
battles in past wars.
Our modern Handcart has a rotor-blade and sliding doors.
Look at history, look at artwork, recent photos or at movies if you
will;
When it came to removing the wounded and injured off of some war
torn desolate hill.
It was a Handcart carrying the broken and the dying with their
screams of pain.
It was a Handcart transporting at Normandy in the cold June rain.
Every branch of the service has its modern version of the Handcart
boys who respond to the call.
They go out for the wounded and dead; bring them back, get them all.
Some times the Handcart boys are brought back in a Handcart not of
their own.
Some times they become the wounded and the dying, and for their
efforts, they never come home.
There are also women who work these latter-day Handcarts and their
lives too, are on the line.
It is a dangerous mission, but just as their predecessors they to
make that recovery in time.
They move out over the desert, into the night as the sand blows and
swirls.
These Handcart operators are our Handcart girls.
I have a two-wheeled wooden handcart with an old worn flag sitting
out on my front lawn.
It is not a protest, it's a reminder of our dead, who returned by
Handcart, lying there upon.
In order to defend this Nation, we will continue to send the brave
and young, our freedom they earn.
And we will always have a need for the Handcarts, for our wounded
and dead, they must return.
Handcarts at Kirtland Air Force Base - Albuquerque, NM |
By Van
E, Harl
Copyright 2003
Listed April 9, 2010 |
|
|
About Author... Major Van E. Harl USAF Ret., was a career police officer in the U.S. Air Force. He was the Deputy Chief of police at two Air Force Bases and the Commander of Law Enforcement Operations at another. Major Harl is a graduate of the U.S. Army Infantry School, the Air Force Squadron Officer School and the Air Command and Staff College. After retiring from the Air Force, he was a state police officer in Nevada. |
| It is illegal to use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to Van. ~~ |
Poem Use Permission Request
USA Patriotism! cannot
provide use permission for a poem or an author's email address
if not listed below the poem. Only the author or a legal
representative can grant permission. Try a search engine to find the
author's contact information for a use permission request or if
it is available for public use.
Note: Poems authored in the
1700s and 1800s can be used with reference to the author. |
Comment on this poem |
|
| | |
|
| War and Tragedy Poems | Poem Categories |
|
