When We Were Soldiers

When We Were Soldiers

Maybe it was the innate inclination
Seemingly present in all young boys
Or perhaps it was the moment that
While playing games in the basement
We laid our eyes upon our Grandpa's
Olive drab, wool army service cap
Above coats up on a closet shelf
The leather visor and brass insignia
Pristine and clean, set aside from
Another era that we had never seen

My brothers and I spent many hours
Over at our grandparents' house
But the army hat was a new discovery
It beckoned us from their basement
Giving us an itch as if this piece
Of uniform was some transformative
Relic that would change us all from
Boys into the men seen in WWII movies
So finally, with his permission we
Took turns wearing Grandpa's old hat

We quickly enlisted into fascination
There was more beyond that closet door
Next, Grandpa allowed us to use his
Heavy steel helmet along with the
Army belt and its aluminum canteen
Our Dad too lent us some of the things
From his days as a Marine in Vietnam
We put on khaki and green garrison caps
With his knapsack and issued tee-shirts

This was much more than those plastic
Green men we'd set on the floor and
Shoot elastic bands at while peeking
Above paper tents and plastic jeeps
Now we ourselves seemed down there
Dressed up in our own father's gear
Frozen in some pose while waiting
In those uniforms, like a combatant
Ready to cross over the enemy's lines
The soldier's life vivid in our minds

We were an absurd mishmash of troops
As we three would dig in our garage
To dress in camouflage and sneakers
Along with bright yellow and blue
Fisher-Price binoculars dangling
From our necks like strange dog-tags
One of us would awkwardly wear the
Steel helmet, bobbling on their head
Another would just wear its inner liner
And we had many hats to choose from

Naturally, being the eldest found me
Usually in command of the other boys
We would set out with our toys and
Whoever was the lucky one would use
Our uncle's old BB gun, shooting air
At whoever would dare attack our hidden
Fortress in the gully behind our home
We'd roam the woods, drawing crude maps
Planning ambushes on imaginary enemies
And occasionally on our own neighbors

During the summer months we'd spend
Hours in the hot sun, running through
Underbrush and thorns, hiding in trees
Drinking swigs of the tinny tasting
Water from our Grandpa's old canteen
Until we had to come in and get clean
So Mom would allow us to eat our dinner
We did this until we grew older and the
Movies and video games soon replaced
The times we chased each other outside

I will always remember those days
When we were soldiers, playing games
Fighting imaginary backyard battles
Because our Dad and our Grandpa had
Already fought the real ones for us
Decades before, in wars far from home
And though we played in their uniforms
We never once stepped into their boots
Because they were generals we'd salute
In those days when we were soldiers

JMC
11/11/10
(c) 2010

Livicated to my Dad and my Grandpa, both veterans:
Robert L. Curzan, USMC, Vietnam War
Edmond Gioielli, US Army, World War II