As, I awaken, dawn breaks in the distance
on the horizon of a land that is not my own.
I move awkwardly, and perhaps too slowly,
toward duties of the day that lies ahead.
Last night, I slept when I could...
sometimes gladly...
sometimes helplessly...
sometimes, to escape the particulars of my circumstances.
(But three hours just weren't enough.)
Now... struggling...I pull away from the remnants
of the uneasy peace I made with the darkness of the night before.
While standing the watch and cradling my weapon...
I grew anxious in the hope that I would one day,
similarly embrace those whom I love and who love me in return.
And so, it goes as I shiver to shake-off the tender moments
that flash dimly before me...on the fading crest of my down time,
realizing that today is another day...
One that promises no victory...one that is as yet, unfamiliar with peace.
Today is another day in the trenches or the jungles.
It is another day in the mountains or on the beachheads.
It is a day of undefined battle lines...one of rural or urban warfare...
In the desert or in the swamps...
Upon the waters or above the clouds...
It is a day...a mission...a war...that holds no selfish prize for me.
But faith and commitment will sustain me.
Confidence that I will thrive again, on American soil, motivates me.
My trust that family and friends
will save space for me in their hearts and homes,
gives balance to the bitter taste of combat
as it enters and offends the whole of my being.
And yet, I'll go on.
I'll go on because I promised:
I gave my word (in a solemn pledge made before God) when I became
America's "Army of One."
Its "Navy Team,"
Its Corps of the "Few and Proud,"
Its dominate Force in the sky,
And its "Guardian of our coastal water ways."
I'll go on because I must.
I'll go on because others will support and relieve me.
I'll go on because my family awaits me.
I'll go on because I can't turn back...
I'll go on...because I'd rather die in battle
Than live in fear.
And when this day is over and my tour is done,
I'll return home:
Maybe in the silence of my mortal life...
Maybe decades later.
Maybe broken and wounded...
Maybe not my "old self"...
And maybe even, by the grace of God, in one piece.
But surely, I will return...asking no greater reward than
To be well received,
Tended in my need,
Appreciated for my service,
And free to share equally in the abundance of the land I love.
For on that day, I will have been born...An American Veteran.
Family Veterans
Gylie Herring & Henry Harrison (Civil War); Orange Richardson, Jr. (WWI); Jodie (Jerry) Oliver, (WWII); Rayford Hudson (WWII); Samuel Harris, Jacob Harris, & Marcellus Cortez (Korean War); Ernest Bowles, Sr.; George W.C. Harris; Alfred Harris, Sr. & Gary Betts, Sr. (Vietnam); Bo Kees; Elijah Peterson, II; Elijah Peterson, III & Alfred Harris, Jr. (Desert Storm, Iraq, and Afghanistan); Woodrow Smith, Jr; Maria Peterson Henderson; Kevin Jefferson, Chris Williams; Amanda Williams; Nancy Crider; Andrea Leonard; Leo Griffin.
**My apologies for names missed or errors made. Please send corrections for future reference
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!
Your Family Griot, Carolyn Harris Betts
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