Frank J. Montoya


It seemed like just a week ago,
But it had been a long and lonely year
Since he had gone “Over There” to fight in France.
Oh! How I wished that he were here.
“No letter today”, the Postman said.
“No “V” Mail from Europe, it’s been a week or more”.
I sat silently, my Blue Star Banner in my hand,
And prayed for the day he’d come through the door.
Through tear-filled eyes I read the telegram again,
And my mind was numb as I tried and tried
To think of an answer when the children asked:
“Where is Iwo Jima, Mom? Is that where Daddy died?”
We were young and foolish, just turned eighteen.
But we wouldn’t wait; he had been called to go.
His son would be waiting when he came back home.
He was in Korea, fighting in the cold and snow.
I suffered fearful days and tearful nights.
He’d be in South Vietnam for three months more.
We’d been apart four times in eighteen years,
But this was harder to bear than the ones before.
We met at Karen’s for coffee the other day.
Her Steven had fought in Kuwait’s burning sand.
Martha’s Kevin had twice been to Kosovo.
We have formed a kinship that we think is grand.
His orders finally came down yesterday;
We will soon be parted, once again.
I’ll join other sad and lonely wives,
And he’ll join other brave, courageous men.
There will be less joy this Christmastime.
He won’t be here to help us trim the tree.
But we will celebrate, as he would want us to,
And I’ll save a special gift for him… from me.
Where will he go? How long will he stay away?
He will serve with honor, wherever it may be.
And we will wait for him with pride… and prayer,
As he makes the world safe for his family.