Many times when my son was small he used to ask my Dad about what it was like being a soldier.? Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone? My Dad would be silent not knowing how to answer....and in his mind, momentarily, ?he went into a dark and private place.? ? Two weeks ago I went to visit an old army veteran and his small grandson listened to us talk, and the same question was asked " Dziadek did you have a gun? Did you ever kill anyone?? And I recognized that same look come over the old mans face and I understood it better.? I think many in?this?situation had difficulty in telling their children and granchildren what being a soldier really meant.
? I wrote this poem for Rememberence Day. 2004, ?for Kresy members ...
perhaps someone experienced the same memory and might like to share this with their family.?
Dziadek, did you have a gun?
?
?
The old man sat in his rocker with his grandson at his feet
As he told stories from his youth, many left incomplete.
The young boy played with the medals, tokens from the war.
And with childhood innocence kept wanting to hear more.
?
Dziadek were you a soldier? Dziadek did you have a gun?
Dziadek, dziadek? did you ever have to kill anyone?
?
The old man nodded and let his thoughts drift back
To a time when his country was heavily under attack
Instead of enjoying autumn leaves and warm September nights
He was handed a gun and volunteered to fight.
?
Gone were his dreams of a future, love and romance
Everyday now could be the last dance.
He stared into the face of death and searched deep within his soul
And asked God for answers of why this senseless toll?
?
He had quickly become a man inside a boy
And his youth was robbed of love and joy
He could still hear the roar of canons that filled the air
As naked evil spirits brought on misery and despair
?
Broken dreams and shattered lives kaliedscoped the earthly floor
As spirits soared amidst the smoke leaving behind the bloody war.
He tried not to relive the sadness and the pain
But to forget this all would mean his comrades died in vain.
?
He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a whisper of a long lost friend
I would tell the story, if your grandson to me you would lend.
I had dreams of a family, a home, remember the stories we shared?
But my life was taken away from me and yours was spared.
?
Dziadek, dziadek did you have a gun?
Dziadek, dziadek did you have to kill anyone?
?
Looking down into the eyes of his grandson it all became very clear,
As he again had to become a proud soldier and wiped away a tear.
His gnarled old hand brushed back the hair of the tiny little face
It was his duty to teach this boy and to hide the truth would be a disgrace.
?
Yes my child, your dziadek was a soldier and yes I had? a gun
But my war was not a game and I never shot for fun.
When you are older you will understand the job I had to do.
And now I understand what I gave up,? I did for you.
?
hania kaczanowska 2004
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