FALLEN SPARROWS
By C.W. “Clancey” Fields, 1987 – WWII Marine 280454
Survivor of Pearl Harbor and Iwo Jima

This one red rose, my comrades’ blood,
shed as they died far away.
From that bloody bay called Pearl,
to the Okinawa fray.

Men (not boys) who once did live,
but not forever more.
We’ll ne’re forget their valor
as they sleep on wings of yore.

I asked my God, “Why was I chosen,
to remain behind alone?”
“That’s providence, my son,
for you are doomed to mourn.”

“The Japs, those Sons A Bitches,
I know I’ll always hate.”
“Forgiving’s not forgetting, son,
and now that too’s your fate."

God knows how hard I tried, but failed,
others must follow their heart.
Can POWs, disabled and loved ones
forgive them for their part?

There was some pride in victory;
I wore my ‘Ruptured Duck’.
We thought we had learned our lesson.
Freedom’s blossoms we did pluck.

Along came the ‘Police Action,’ Korea.
Brave men died this time too, for naught.
This and Viet Nam were full blown wars.
Misery, bravery and gore are not soon forgot.

We then sent our sons and daughters off,
to fight in their own HELL.
Politicians would not let them win their war
though they fought their battles well.

Another 58,000 died, again in vain;
these Warriors, ne’re again to roam.
Caring hands transferred their stretchers.
Caring hearts, they cried at home.

To the combat vets of Viet Nam:
You are neither first nor last,
with sorrow, anger, bitterness and terror,
from memories of a war long past.

Our torment is the same as yours;
we don’t carry it in plain view.
Some wear it on their shoulders.
Some mourn silently for ones they knew.

I salute ALL sons of freedom,
who gave their best and all.
These men cut down while in their prime;
God watched his sparrows fall.

To be a survivor, I thought I was lucky.
But this hand was dealt by fate, not luck.
‘Twas a task I was not prepared for.
Memories of you I cannot duck.

My war was many years ago;
I’m a short timer again.
Someday my tears will be ended…
I will vividly remember, UNTIL THEN!!

~Clancey Fields, Former Marine

Clancey Fields, Tech Sergeant, USMC

This poem was written by my father, Clancey Fields, Tech Sergeant, USMC. Dad was a WWII combat Marine and was stationed at the Marine Barracks at Pearl Harbor when it was bombed on December 7, 1941. He was also at Iwo Jima where he helped retrieve John Basilone’s body and gear from the field of battle where he had fallen.

Growing up, my father taught my brother and I not to hate. I never heard him say anything against his Japanese foe except to say: “They were just doing their job as we were.” However, this poem betrays his true feelings of “…sorrow, anger, bitterness and terror…”.

Although it was written with me in mind he could also be talking to you, my 3/5 brothers, and all other blooded fighting men and women regardless of their branch of service or the war in which they fought.

My father is 82 years old and still kickin’. I hope for many more years to come. ~Ken Fields, M Co. 3/5

“If you weren’t there you will never understand!”

Ken Fields, M Co. 3/5, 1967