The Militant Moderate

From the gas-laden woods of the Argonne
Through the dreary trenches of the Somme,
Until those bitter battles were all won,
And doughboys then came marching home.

From the steamy jungles of Guadalcanal
Back to the lonely shores of Bataan,
Living the horrors of the war banal,
Doing that which only free men can.

Across the jagged coastline of Inchon
Up and down bloody Pork Chop Hill,
Success in stopping red tide’s pawn,
Starting the test of America’s will.

Into the elusive battles of Vietnam,
With mission and purpose ill-defined,
Images of death a nightly program,
Nation in malaise; leaders maligned.

Next to the breech on Arabian sand,
America’s might and its will aligned,
Raise the colors and strike the band,
Patriot veterans gain peace of mind.

America is attacked by a foreign hand
Truth, reason, and might are ill aligned
But rushed by command into alien sand
No plan for the war or peace designed.

Divided by its leaders’ lies and deceit,
The nation flounders and mistakes repeat.
It will not recover its honor and repute,
Without leadership both honest and astute.


Dr. Edwin E. Vineyard
(A poem in progress from 1994 to 2007)