The Recruiter's Words

I sat there
At the restaurant counter
In amused attention,
Listening to two guys
Trading stories
About the lies
They were told
By the military recruiters
Years ago.
They weren’t angry or bitter,
Just kind of laughing
About the promises made
And their own gullibility
To such deception.
They actually believed
The stories they were told.
Both men had enlisted
To avoid the draft,
And to have
A semblance of choice
About their assignments.
The military recruiters,
Who had quotas to fill,
Promised them the moon,
Then sent them
Wherever they were needed,
Not where they wanted to go.
One guy’s recruiter
Had shown him
Pictures of heavy equipment,
And told him
That he would be trained
To operate those things
As a combat engineer,
A useful skill out in the world.
He did get to see combat,
But never got to run
Any of the equipment promised.
He was also told
That he had to
Leave in four days
Or he wouldn’t get time off
For Christmas.
He discovered afterwards
That recruits with as few
A three days in the service
Still got the holiday.
The other guy
Was interested in
Signing up for the Air Force,
But was told
That they were full
And didn’t need
Any more people.
When he didn’t buy that,
His recruiter,
A girl with an engaging smile,
Painted a vivid picture
Of the fringe benefits
Of being in the army,
Especially about the women
He would meet
And the travel he would do.
He thought about that a lot
Over there in Vietnam.
They had a laugh or two
About lies they were told
And the innocence
And naiveté of their youth.

The Road Not Taken

He was in the final days
Of Army basic training
When he heard a pitch
For joining the airborne elite.
He was ecstatic about signing up
Until his buddy
Put the them down,
Claiming they weren’t
Really that great.
He let himself
Be talked out of joining
By some guy
Who probably lacked
The courage
And the requisite character
To make it as a Ranger.
To this day he still
Chides himself
For not stepping up
To that challenge.
Who knows
Where the road
Not traveled
Might have taken him
Had he chosen it.
He might have
Ended up becoming
A corporate exec,
Or sacrificed his life
For some now
Forgotten cause.
The road he took
Wasn’t all that bad,
But he often ponders
How different
It could have been.

The Green Thumbed Mutterer

There was nothing
Dad loved more
Than puttering around
His garden
And muttering
To his plants.
He always had
A wide variety
Of vegetables
And flowers
Thriving under his
Paternal care.
There were tomatoes,
Carrots, cauliflower,
Cucumbers, potatoes,
Bell peppers,
Sweet peas,
Corn, zucchini,
Asparagus, okra
Broccoli, turnips
Onions, radishes,
String beans, cabbage,
Lettuce, spinach,
Squash and beets
Mixed with morning glories,
Begonias, petunias,
Pansies, geraniums,
Zinnias, and violets.
Every morning
I would find him
Out there
Fully engrossed
In a one-sided conversation
With his plants.
I don’t suppose
They ever
Talked back to him
The way I did,
But they sure seemed
To enjoy
Each other’s company.

Orchestrated Lies

Almost every soldier
Can tell you a story
Of the video he or she
Was shown
Prior to recruitment.
Invariably there is
A handsome, robustly fit, guy
With a stunningly
Exotic earth goddess
In each of his arms,
And they will show
This same guy
Jet skiing or scuba diving
In some far off
Corner of the world,
Or playing golf
On the rolling greens
Somewhere
This side of heaven.
I have talked to
A lot of soldiers now,
And although many
Enjoyed their time,
And have plenty
Of stories of their own to tell,
It was never like
The video implied,
And everyone of them
Laughs at the absurdity
Of the picture painted.

No Longer a Marine

He looked like
A fairly decent
Sort of guy,
Probably a little
Down on his luck,
And a bit rough
Around the edges,
Yet there he was
Living on handouts
At a local
Walmart Store.
Being curious
As to why,
I approached him.
It turns out that
He had served
In the Marine Corps
Just as I had done.
At graduation
From boot camp,
He must have stood
On the parade field,
Razor sharp,
Perfectly sculpted,
And proud to call
Himself a Marine.
He could run five miles
Without breaking a sweat,
Knock out two-hundred
Push-ups,
Without thinking about it,
Recite his general orders
And the Marine Corps hymn
Without missing a beat.
That was thirty years ago
And he is not
A Marine anymore.
What happened to him?
It was not drugs or alcohol,
But something else
That incapacitated him.
It was not the horrors of war
Haunting him,
For he had never served
In combat.
I imagine it was that,
Like so many others
Leaving the military,
He was never quite able
To find himself
In the civilian world.
He drifted from job to job,
Unable to recapture
That sense of purpose
He felt as a Marine
And in time,
Lost a sense
Of who he was.

A Father's Pride and Joy

You should see the way
His eyes sparkle
When he talks
About his son
Back in North Carolina,
And some of
The funny things
The kid has done.
One story he shared
Was about
A doctor’s visit
To the VA Hospital
The last time
He was home.
The doctor happened
To be female
And a Lieutenant Colonel.
When she opened
The baby’s diaper
To check how
His circumcision was doing,
The cold air
Must of excited the child,
Because the boy
Suddenly let loose
And peed in her face.
The young ex-marine
Laughed out loud
As he told the story,
And commented
About the many officers
We would have liked
To have been able
To do that to.
On leaving the hospital
He complimented
His son on what
A good boy he had been.