Eulogy Poem by Joe Fraccalvieri

He might have died during that first day
Maybe it was he who was the first casualty,
killed on the battlefield--
by the very shot heard 'round the world…
Or maybe he was wounded--
carrying a piece of the war in his flesh
for such a long time
until it became too unbearable for him
and he finally reconciled to his own death

Maybe he managed to live through its hell,
only to die on the last day of a war
that lasted torturous years--
never seeing its end, never knowing
if those he remembered were better off
because of war… Or whether they too
had suffered as he had--
finally falling to the foe

Of his death we know little--
and of his life we know less…
His name is not even known--
yet he represents all the heroes
that time forgot, and every one
who has ever died a little inside
because they've heard of war

But of this we are certain:
he was a soldier…
Not by profession, but by choice
He fought to protect the beliefs
of those he believed in…
He fought because he knew he could
so that others wouldn't have to

I once visited his grave--
a special place away from the thousands
of those buried at Arlington National Cemetery,
or whose names are etched
into the walls of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial
And there, at the tomb, another soldier kept vigil
to ensure with respect, the remains
of a brother whose name, to us, is unknown…
But if you look for him in heaven,
you'll find him standing at ease at God's throne