In commemorating fallen members of our armed forces on Monday, my thoughts turned to the veterans in my family, those who live and those who have perished. In particular, I turned to the writings of my great-uncle. Uncle Jim, a medic with the 977th F.A. Army Brigade during WWII, earned conscientious objector status before volunteering to serve. He enlisted in the medical corps and carried the tools of healing to the front lines of war, rather than (and to the exclusion of) a gun, providing relief where he could and serving witness. In 2006, his account of the liberation of Dachau and 12 of his poems were made part of the permanent collection at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. Today, on the original, May 30th, date of Memorial Day, I wanted to post one of his works.
In Memory of Memory (Charles Edwards: Overlooking the Valencia-Madrid Road, 2/17/37) To be first, we say, is “what it’s all about”;that assumes that, when one’s reached a peak,he can savor where he is by looking downor back or smug at those whom he’s outdone;but what of one whose peak’s an instant grave,whose firstness is his everlastingness?what savor lingers? on what gourmet tongue?it is a brackish water (taste of dead dreams)unless the living lavish on the lostthe utmost honor: keeping him in mind.James Worley
