Jax Blog #16 – "Honor And Glory"

Hello Folks,

In honor of Memorial Day I'm posting Honor And Glory. I wrote this back in 1974, a year after I finished my military service. Being an amateur military historian and appreciating the wonderful fantasies and myths of books like The Lord of the Rings, I took a stab at writing a poem depicting combat. It only took me about forty-five minutes to finish the first draft, but, it took many more years to tune it up with rewrites. I don't use the common terminology for units and ranks, but delve into fantasy to find generic terms. The main thing isn't the names but the experience of combat. After spending most of my teen age years, and after, reading histories of the American Civil War, I wanted to express something like that feel to this poem. And maybe find a universality that deals with an historical experience so common so as to transcend any particular place and time.

Honor And Glory  

Projectiles from large enemy thunder tubes
Fly overhead seeking some damage to do
Our War Group enters the camp left to us
With once bright uniforms covered with dust

The mounts are nervous, though protected by a rise
Shielded from the fire, as our columns arrive
Leadmen of Troups hear from Headmen of Bands
“There’s no falling out, the column here stands.”

Tired men fall from our march in the sun
Comrades support them, there’s no place to run
Leadmen tell Pack Foremen, “Inspect Warlings through.”
File Overlings follow to ensure hearts stay true

Warm water is taken from bottles half full
While we all listen to the thunder tube duel
The longer the waiting, the tenser the nerves
Feeling, on today’s action, the conflict may turn

Our Chiefman is here, to help form our line
Preparing the Bandline, he say’s we’ll do fine
We’re all made ready, with skirmishers ahead
The thought in our minds, who’ll live or be dead?

The Theyn of the War Group arrives with his staff
We’re put to attention to hear what he say’s
“Friends, Patriots, be proud on this morning,
Our freedom now lies in your honor and glory.”

“We fight to protect our families and homes.
This is our duty, the only way shown.
Our enemies enslave us, won’t let us be.
Fight for your freedom and destiny.”

Checking our arms, fire rods are readied
With long blades attached to make them more deadly
Our lines are dressed as the thunder tubes stop
Then we hear, along the rise, the words, “Over the top.”

Our line surges forward, scrambling over the rise
Each of us praying to somehow just stay alive
How many more races across torn up ground
How many more lifetimes to waste, as this now

Large thunder tubes take their toll once again
Churning up ground, and brave frightened men
Struggling along, covered with dirt and sand
Praying not to step where projectiles might land

My mind stops, suspended, as the inferno is seen
Trapped in this unreal, nightmare of a dream
What have we done? What was our crime?
Forced to pray for survival one more last time

Our foot band’s Headman, with banner unfurled
Like a man possessed in a alien world
Exhorting, cajoling, driving us all along
“To stop is dishonor, move forward, be strong.”

My mind clouds, past fights merge into one
All I know to live, is keep moving, and run
Looking back I see we’re far less than before
As projectile bursts engulf us once more

Littered around are broken mounts and men
I know I could never do this again
We near the trenches where our enemies lie
Their Headmen yelling, while their wounded cry

Our thinned line closes the space in-between
The enemies’ eyes are scared and mean
Their fire rod flashes quicken our pace
All locked together in this deadly long race

The banner held in our Headman’s strong hands
He plants in the trench, where others soon land
Our foot band enters, fighting eye to eye
The foe’s soon evicted, while many there die

The Headman screams, to gather a pursuit
We’re all brought together to see the fight through
One frightened man panics, crumbling to his knees
The rest start off, as the enemy flees

Then, a projectile burst knocks me to the ground
My mind’s filled with haze, motionless, but sound
Trapped in my body, as others pass by
I’m aware of life, and afraid to die

I see, in my haze, the Headman at bay
Prodding the straggler to get on his way
Yelling, exhorting, the same old story
“Defend your country, for honor, and glory.”

With thunder tube bursts again overhead
I feel, before long, that I’ll soon be dead
The scene with the Headman’s charge continues
Till a burst from a tube makes dust of their sinew

The smoke soon clears, only crumpled bodies remain
Uniforms are shredded, the torn banner hangs
Battle sounds relent, to stillness and calm
All the dust settles, and the conflict is gone

Then after a time the War Theyn appears
Seeing the banner brings him close to tears
Telling an aide of the Headman’s brave run
“Oh, to what cost such bravery is done.”

He gets two stretcher bearers to stop
To put the Headman’s remains there on top
Placing the banner, over the body, once brave
They carry it back to a fine hero’s grave
​
Unknown to them, though well I could see
The bodies having fallen so close to me
Taken was the straggler, in mistaken hurry
To fill in for the hero’s honor and glory

Jack T. Leyton
1974

Years ago, I happened to read this poem to the father of a friend of mine who was in the U.S. 29th Infantry Division that landed on Omaha Beach, Normandy on D-Day, 1944. He just kind of gave a look like a thousand yard stare and softly said, "Yeah, that's about it." Enough said. God bless and keep all our heroes, past, present and future. 

Equivalents
War Group = Division = 10,000 (+/-)
Bandline    = Brigade  = 3-5,000
Band         = Battalion = 500-1,000
Troup        = Company = 100-200
Pack         = Platoon    = 30-45
File           = Squad      = 8-15
Warling     = Soldier from anywhere at anytime  


Enough said. God bless all our heroes, past, present and future.

Cheers,
Jack
🖖✌️