B-17 crash (poems)

VETERAN'S DAY

By L B Strawn, brother of Warren Franklin Mansfield Strawn, November 11, 1980

Veteran's day - a time to remember
Those who have served this country well;
This eleventh day of every November;
We appreciate them more than we can tell.

Many have given their all, their life,
To keep this great land free.
All have suffered war's hellish strife
That America should not be forced to her knee.

When we recall all those brave
Courageous men of yesteryear,
How they fought and died to save
Our country, it brings a silent prayer,

That, someday soon those who lead
The countries of the world
Will find the germinating seed
Of love, and may it's banner be unfurled.

Oh, could it be that they could live
Each day with love as their guide,
Then, to the earth, they could give
Freedom, prosperity and pride.

But, as long as tyranny is at the rein,
And power the ever consuming goal,
We will know the sorrow and the pain
Of that poor, giving and dying soul -
The VETERAN.

MEMORIAL DAY

By Reynolda Strawn Clegg, sister of Warren Franklin Mansfield Strawn, 1997

On this day of remembrance I take my stand
With so many others throughout the land,
Among all of those, who long have grieved
For those who died for what they believed.
For one, in particular, who died for the cause
Of freedom - so now we reverently pause
To pay tribute for selfless sacrifice
For our country engaged in deadly strife.

I lost a loved one and I know the cost,
The anger, the hurt, the years now lost;
The emptiness of a vacant role,
The tears and cries of an anguished soul.
Though the years have been many, full fifty-four now,
And wrinkles now crease my once smooth brow,
The memories stay new for they're all that we have
Left of that dear one, so precious and brave.

I call to remembrance his eyes of blue,
His blond, curly hair, his laughter, too,
The touch of his hand, his stature, his grace,
The way that he walked, the broad smile on his face.
I remember our childhood, our fusses, our joys,
Our walking to school, our sharing of toys,
The poverty years, our struggles of life
That welded our family in trouble and strife;

Our climb to adulthood, his first new car,
His induction into service in the second world war;
The words we spoke at our last goodbye,
His form silhouetted against the darkening sky,
As his train pulled away and he waved his hand,
Then back to his base and to a foreign land.

I remember the day and the ring of the phone
When we got the news that he wouldn't come home.
Our unopened letters, returned to our home,
Grim witness to a precious life now gone.
He was a gung-ho soldier, a true patriot,
Who gave far more than he ever got.
He truly was special to my family and me,
For he was my brother, and just twenty-three.

There'll be no flowers on his grave today,
For he lies in a graveyard that is too far away,
Which he shares with five others, equally brave,
Comrades-in-arms, who also gave.
But our spirits unite in a time, now gone,
And transcend the years to a future home
When love and God shall unite us again
In a land of no tears, separation or pain.

©1998 In memory of 2nd Lieutenant Warren Franklin Mansfield Strawn
Born December 31, 1919, Killed in action in England.

Many thanks to Marcia A Moyer, proud niece of 2nd Lt Warren M Strawn, and L B Strawn his brother. Click the following links to see further poems: In Memory Of A Soldier by Mildred Scott, one of 2nd Lt Strawn's sisters; Remembering A Soldier by his sister Reynolda Clegg; Into The Dawn, written by his father Allen Strawn; and Killed In Action by 2nd Lt Strawn's sister Martha Mildred Mann Scott written from 2nd Lt Strawn's mother's perspective.