Article #29 To All Veterans

In remembrance of all veterans, I’d like to share this poem about draft dodgers that my grandmother sent in a letter to her youngest son Weston. (Photo of me and my uncle Weston.) He had enlisted in the army and was stationed in the South Pacific during World War II. I found the poem in her letters she wrote to him more than sixty years ago. It was still carefully preserved by him. 

The poet is unknown but the sentiments express well the frustration of mothers whose sons were off facing danger everyday in the heart of battle, while other local young men had been able to escape the draft through some ruse or another and were safely at home living the good life. The family of active combat soldiers lived in dread of the telegram or knock on the door at any moment that would notify them that their son, husband or father was wounded, missing or killed in action.

DRAFT DODGER
By Unknown

I am writing this short letter
And every word is true;
Don’t look away, draft dodger
For it’s addressed to you.
You feel at ease and in no danger
Back in the old home town;
You cooked up some pitiful stories
So the draft board would turn you down.
You never think of the real men
Who leave here, day by day;
You just think of their girl friends
Whom you’ll get when they’re away.

So sit at home and read the papers,
Then jump up and say we’ll win:
Just where do you get that “we” stuff––
This war will be won by men!
What do you think now, draft dodger,
That this great nation would do
If all of our men were slackers,
And afraid to fight––like you?
Well, I guess that’s all Mr. Slacker,
(I suppose your face is red?)
America’s no place for your kind
And it’s true, every word I’ve said.
So in closing this short letter,
Just remember what I say:
Keep away from my girl, I warn you,
‘Cause I’m coming back some day!