I hear the bugles refrain too often these days,
As one more old soldiers life passes away,
Gone forever memories of wars terrible cost,
Given up his pain carried of the buddies lost,

He hardly ever spoke of it even after all the years,
For fear the pain would bring on hidden tears,
He has looked each day death straight in the eye,
Knowing that at any moment he too could die,

He charged headlong into battle to take the high ground,
Looking straight ahead to avoid the death all around,
Many a battle he fought but always he survived,
Deep inside he seemed guilty that he was alive,

Day after day he watch his buddies go down,
Some screaming and others not making a sound,
Then when the end came to the death and the gore,
He made a promise to himself to speak of it never more,

He came home and took up as before and his life moved ahead,
But sometimes in his dreams came faces of friends long ago dead,
As the time passed the vivid memories seem to fade from his mind,
He was finally able to leave the loss and the pain far behind,

When his kids asked him one day what he did in the war,
His answer was simple "I was a soldier" and nothing more,
No hero's medals were ever bestowed on his chest,
But a hero he was, and brave in battle nonetheless,

Now that his day has come to have the taps blow,
That he was a soldier everyone will finally know,
On Memorial Day at his grave a small flag will wave,
The highest honor it is for the great sacrifice he gave.

L. D. Millsap