Letter from Edward Hawkins
Medicine – November 2005 – Colorado Central Magazine
ODE TO ALL THE FINE DOCTORS
A Veteran’s Thoughts on Quiet Evenings
By Edward Hawkins
World War II — U. S. Merchant Marine
We World War 2 veterans are a peculiar lot.
In 1941 we thought we were immortal
So we busted our ass and other frail parts
Came home, battered, broken and beat to shit.
And all the fine doctors patched us up.
Our lungs were burnt and seared
From oil smoke of burning fires,
As the ships sunk beneath our feet.
Jungle rot spread from toes to crotch
And more toes gone from frozen winters.
And all the fine doctors patched us up.
They bound our wounds, sewed up the holes,
Mended our broken bones, minds and spirits
And gave us hope that we’d feel better later,
After the dreams and nightmares faded,
When the guns had silenced and bugles quit
All the fine doctors patched us up.
But it didn’t end, you see, it never ends.
Aftermath demanded three packs a day,
A bottle a month, a sixpack on Saturday night
To make apologies because we came back.
And others did not, and we trusted
All the fine doctors to patch us up.
And now after all the years
We still smell the smoke and the
Stink of jungle rot and the pain of missing toes
We try to ignore, forget, and pretend
We’re still the hardy boys of yesteryear
As all the fine doctors try to patch us up.
But the years have passed and taken a toll
And it’s patch, patch, patch and still patch.
The muscles loosen, the mind drifts,
The old bones creak, but the memories stay
But we’re still here and sort of okay
Because all the fine doctors patch us up.
And now when old uniforms shrink and grow tight
And the medals grow tarnished and gray,
Others join us from Korea, ‘Nam, ‘Stan and
Iraq and other far away places where each gets hurt,
We all come home, battered, broken and beat to shit
And all the fine doctors patch us up.
So now the bands play and the flags wave,
Little kids salute as we pass by
And we all limp and stumble along
Hoping that people won’t notice too much
That we’re all battered, broken, and beat to shit
But all the fine doctors have patched us up.
And all the fine doctors have patched us up.
Bless them all!