The Marine
Based on a true story I read.
I have a story that I would like to share with you via poetry,
A story that's very moving, even though somewhat ordinary.
It’s one of those stories that needs to be told, one worth passing along,
Whether that be verbally, via someone's pen, or even via a song.
It all happened in Brooklyn, New York, around about nineteen eighty,
Or so the story goes — and it's a true one — one that deeply touched me.
An elderly man had collapsed whilst crossing a busy roadway, and,
There he still lay, stricken, unconscious — and of course, unable to stand.
Thus, a policeman duly called for an ambulance, which quickly came,
Rushing the man to a Brooklyn hospital — saving him, being the aim.
Midst bouts of consciousness, the ailing elderly man called for his son,
Thus a hurried search by the hospital staff was thoughtfully begun.
A smudged and crumpled letter revealed that his son was a marine, and,
That he was in a camp in North Carolina close to marshy land.
Therefore, time was of the essence, for the patient was dying, fading,
And his son quite a few hours away, and through marshy backwoods wading.
Consequently, a call to the Red Cross office in Brooklyn was made,
(Via one of the hospital staff), in an effort to enlist their aid.
And they, in turn, quickly contacted a Red Cross field director, who,
Was also stationed at the same North Carolina marine camp too.
When this contact was made with the marine camp, his son was located,
A vehicle then taking the young marine to where a plane waited.
And very soon he was on his way, arriving anxious, bleary-eyed,
A hospital nurse hurriedly taking him to the old man’s bedside.
And there the patient lay beneath an oxygen tent, his life draining,
He, the victim of a heart attack, his chest heaving, his lungs straining.
“Your son is here now,” the nurse informed the heavily sedated man,
And she repeated it a few more times 'till his eyes opened to scan.
Very dimly, he saw the young man in the marine uniform, and,
From within the tent’s opaque walls, he reached out with his pale and frail hand.
The young marine then wrapped his hand around the elderly man’s limp one,
Thereby squeezing a message of love and encouragement from the son.
And there in that poorly lit hospital ward the young marine sat, and,
All throughout the long night held very firmly to the patient’s weak hand.
And whenever the elderly patient's eyes opened, albeit briefly,
The young man softly offered words of hope and strength, encouragingly.
Whenever the hospital nurse came into the ward, he was still there,
Oblivious to her and various noises that would reach the ear.
The young man never moved from the old man’s side, nor ever left his chair,
And now and again those words of encouragement she would overhear.
The elderly man never spoke, his hand locked in his son’s, gratefully,
And towards dawn, ever so quietly passed away, lamentably.
The young marine placed the elderly man’s lifeless hand back on the bed,
And then sought the hospital nurse, informing her, “I’m afraid he’s dead.”
The hospital nurse started to offer the son words of sympathy,
But the young marine quickly interrupted her, saying, “Who was he?”
“Your father,” she answered, startled. “No he wasn’t,” the young man replied,
“For I’ve never seen him before, though I am very sad that he died.”
“Why on earth didn’t you say something when I took you to him?” she said,
“Well, I could see that there had been a mistake,” he replied, his eyes red,
“And it was very clear that he needed his son, words of hope and cheer,
Therefore, I figured that he really needed me, and so I stayed there.”
“I realized that he was far too sick to know that I wasn’t his son,
And that this man actually thought that I was in fact the real one.
By the time his real son got here, it would’ve been far too late, sadly,
So I just acted as if I were his son, conveying empathy.
The young marine then turned on his heels and left, leaving the nurse amazed,
For what selflessness, love and kindness, she thought, as after him she gazed.
And she made her way down to the ward, pausing very reflectively,
Dwelling on similar loving acts, of which there had been so many.
Well, it turned out that there were two marines with the very same name, and,
Who were at the same marine camp on manoeuvres in same marshy land,
And whose serial numbers were similar too, you see, amazingly,
And all of which lead to the wrong marine being fetched, unfortunately.
Someone had pulled the wrong record out first, and thereby got the wrong lad,
Who thoughtfully treated the elderly man as if he were his dad.
And thereby, the wrong marine became the right son at the right time, and,
Very compassionately responded, given that he was at hand.
Yes, there are those who really do care what happens to their fellowman,
And who thus rise to the challenge, thereby doing whatever they can.
Yes, acts of tender compassion and loving care, that daily take place,
In the likes of Kings County Hospital, as was so in this man's case.
Oh, by the way, the real son made it to the funeral, and clearly
Was very grateful that someone had acted so compassionately,
That the other marine had kindly thought to do what he did that day,
In order that a dying old man might more peacefully pass away.
Yes, every single act of kindness makes this world a far better place,
And it also makes life a lot easier for someone else to face.
Yes, every deed that shows compassion, selflessness, tender loving care,
Makes the burdens of others who're struggling so much easier to bare.
Say, would you rise to the challenge?
By Lance Landall
