SOLDIER COMING HOME

Jose Roxas Leveriza Writes on Health Problems
Sleeplessness

Soldier Coming Home

Is this what I fought for?

On the plane home, the blue expanse of sky connects one world. It is the same planet for all people. It is so peaceful up here. Conflicts below on the ground seem so far away. The plane flies above the reach of misery and pain.

Where do deaths go?

Heaven, if it’s the blue sky, grows endless. Puffs of clouds sail below on angel wings. It’s good to be alive. What about Pvt. Moore, could he be here somewhere? Bill Stubbs glanced again outside the window. There was nothing but blue sky.

Touchdown American soil!

Plane bounces then digs deep with tried wheels onto the runway. Home grounds at last. Where is the feeling of elation? There is a tight clutching in the gut. It’s mixed relief and anxiety.

Debriefing calls everyone a hero.

Pvt. Stubbs wades through the motions devoid of emotion. Signs forms. Peers through the seminar half witted. Piles for the bus to the city center. Tight hand clasps all around.

I stood guard at the gate of freedom!

Highways with flashy cars zoom by. America basks in freedom. Thanks to Bill Stubbs. Rifle in hand he marched in the desert of Babylon. 21 years and trained to give and take in the name of liberty.

Homecoming hero to the block

The ride to the county was uneventful. Quick glances, sometimes nods were fleeting. There was one old lady who remembered to smile. The walk from the bus stop was chirpier. Wayne at the drugstore hollered a welcome.

First night to sleep was the most slippery

TV droned on like a meshing battle tank. Sands of the desert flew in snatches of sleep. Screams. Bill Stubbs sits up and glances out at the lights outside the window. Who stands guard for America tonight in the deserts of Babylon?



















































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