Karl Sackman

Karl was a member of VXE6 Squadron, US Navy Air-Devrons


An Old Antarctic Explorer,
I stand with a tear in my eye.
Well, more of a glisten, I’m saying,
I’m sure as hell not going to cry.

The room’s filling up with old vets,
most I can’t say I know.
I’m searching for just a handful,
from nearly forty years ago.

When we were all young men,
we reveled in all of the glory.
Now we’re just old Marines and Sailors,
yearning to re-tell our stories.

Stories of great courage,
sacrifice and devotion:
Sprinkled with some high jinx,
whenever we took the notion.

“Now this is no shit”,
some old salt would state.
“He’s telling it straight men”,
comes the backing from his mate.

Yes, this is the reunion
we’ve all been waiting for.
I’m looking for my buddies,
to stroll in the door.

Why in no time I’m joyfully,
recognizing their mugs.
The room’s full of back slaps,
handshakes and hugs.

“You old son of a bitch,
I thought you were dead!”
“If I hadn’t quit drinking,
I would be.” I said.

Later we toasted
all the good times we had.
Hell, we even had a drink,
to the times that were bad.

For a precious few days,
we re-visited our youth.
Maybe our ice stories were stretched,
but our bond was the truth.

It ended too soon,
as these things always do.
With solemn promises around,
to re-unite at Pt. Magu…

I waved off the last one,
still holding my beer,
and if you look close enough,
you’ll see a real tear.