Kindergarten Commandos

KINDERGARTEN COMMANDOS

 

Kindergarten commandos in the year of ‘65

we played out father’s youth

when they, as heroes,

strode the earth

and vanquished dragons.

With plastic Thompsons and pine cone hand grenades

we played our games

striving to be the men they were.

In Spring we walked the Avenue behind them

and scrambled for the casings

that fell beneath the wreath they lay

before the rifle guard salute.

All Summer at the beach

We gazed upon the living memories-

Mr. Ryan’s metal hand, a Salerno souvenir,

Uncle Lenny’s missing toes, left somewhere in the Chosin,

the scar on Aaron’s leg a memory of Midway.

When we could not play outside

like Medieval monks fingering relics

we crept into attics and garages

to seek the objects of our devotion �"

the faded ribbons and bits of silver and bronze,

tokens of great deeds,

the flier’s cap with fifteen mission flap,

the Japanese flag in Sully’s garage,

the old tin pot of Charlie’s dad

dented by the seawall at Inchon.

As we played that Fall

Danny’s brother laughed

as he smoked and dreamt of cars

while listening to “Eve of Destruction”.

Little thinking of three years hence

and a place called Quang Tri,

and the day the telegram arrived

after which we never played the games again.

 

 

Reviews

[Sharon Kim]

This is so powerful. The descriptions are so vivid-your poem played like a movie reel in my mind with that slight flickering as the scenes forwarded. The ending was so sad-the loss of childhood innocence, like coming to the end of the movie reel and the room going dark and only the sound of the reel spinning slowly to a halt. Thwap, thwap, thwap...

[SteveB]

Thank you so much Sharon. I must say that even in your reviews you give vivid images. I appreciate your kind words.

[Sharon Kim]

My pleasure!

[TK]

This is an amazing piece. I have never seen war but my father had fought in 'Nam and it's stunning that it brings tears to both our eyes as we read this. His memories coming back and the perfect imagery in each line.

[SteveB]

Thank you so very much. And thank you for telling me of your father's reaction. I am honored. But perhaps you should not let him see my piece "Boot Brown Bar". That may bring back too many bad memories.

[TK]

I read that piece. My father was in the Navy and wasn't on land unless needed, but he could relate and does find the piece very true.

[SteveB]

LOL An Ensign can also be a "boot brown bar". And please thank you father, ruling the waves since 1775.

[TK]

I will let him know. You as well, it seems as if you have also served. My sincere thanks and gratitude.

[SyberRose]

Such a sad ending...I can only imagine getting a telegram like that...heartbreaking...
Nicely done Steve...Rose

[SteveB]

Thank you Rose.

[quinfinn]

oh my dear lord....this is stunning. i held my youth in my hand , reading the beginning of this, remembering...and the memories flooded upon each other with every new line, with every new era in my own life and all the familiarities you brought to light. and then you took me back to nam....whew...all i can say without getting too sentimental is...this is resonant and gritty real.....and superbly penned.

[SteveB]

I hoped that was the reactioin you would give. I have to admit I was nervous sending you the read request but when I saw your review of Sami's piece I felt that perhaps I should send you one. Thank you. Your review of this piece, given your unique perspective means a great deal.

[quinfinn]

you really nailed it, my friend...almost to the point of tears (shhh, big boys don't cry)

[SteveB]

I am honored. Truly

[quinfinn]

mutual

[Rita L. Sev]

Wow - this is a great piece. Little boys playing big boy games, then growing up and seeing no fun in war anymore. Your references were a history and culture lesson (I reread, imagining "Eve of Destruction" playing in the background).

[SteveB]

Thank you so much. You can't go wrong with Barry McGuire.

[Rogue]

You've really captured a moment in time in this one and brought home just how personal a War can be.
I like the way you went about this. A story of innocent boys wanting to be heroes like their fathers, playing a game and unfortunately given a premature grown up lesson in the end.

Very well thought out and put together.

[SteveB]

Thank you, you are as always much too kind.

[masqued_muse]

OMG, Steve....war. Defined, etched by life's blood on the sands of time. You have captured the young's fascination, the soldier's final farewell, so poignantly. As a mom, who must endure the absence of a son in the USAF...Germany...I thank you, from the abyss of my soul.
masqued_muse

[SteveB]

Thank you so much. I am sorry I failed to thank you earlier

[masqued_muse]

My son is Germany, in the USAF....so far away. I love military poems...thank you.^^
masqued~.~