Joe enclosed the following poem:

A Soldier in Bataan

The airplanes ceased their bombings,
The guns stood grim and still.
The smoke and haze of battle,
Hung low o'er distant hill.
The sun was slowly sinking,
Her golden rays shot down
Upon the dead and dying,
And on the battle ground;
And on one among the dying—
A youth not yet a man
Who was drafted from 'Dear Georgia'
To fight in old Bataan.

His brother knelt beside him
As his life-blood ebbed away
Bending his head in pity
To hear what he might say.
The dying brother looked up then,
And whispered, 'Brother Jack—
Take this message to our mother
If ever you get back.'
Jack's tears again fell faster
As he clasped his brother's hand—
To listen to the message
He must take from old Bataan.

'Tell mother how I died, Jack—
On this wide battlefield,
Where the bullets rained so thickly
And flashing steel met steel.
Tell how they used to promise
They'd send men, guns and planes,
And tell her how we waited Jack
For ships that never came.
How this hope was always burning
In the heart of every man—
Till at last we knew 'twas hopeless
For the boys in old Bataan.'

'Tell her how we fought Jack,
Together side by side,
And death which swept around us
Was like a seething tide—
Tell her how we lived, Jack...
With only rice to eat,
Boiled coconut, banana stalks
And sometimes carabao meat—
Tell her not to weep Jack,
For, waiting I can stand
At the Golden Gate in Heaven
Built for boys from old Bataan.'

'There was another, brother Jack
A little Dixie gal—
I'm sure that she is waiting
Like a loyal, faithful pal.
She kissed me as we parted
And said "So long, John dear—
I'll be waiting here in Georgia,
In this town of old Macon."
So take this little trinket,
'Tis but a golden band,
To my sweetheart who is waiting
For her doughboy in Bataan.'

'Now raise me up dear brother,
So I may see the sun
Gleaming on the Stars and Stripes
Before the day is done.'
He saluted to the flag—so slowly—
A tear stood in each eye,
As he said, 'Farewell, Old Glory,
It's not so hard to die!
Beneath your silken folds
I nevermore shall stand,
So—farewell—Glory—Mother—
Sweetheart—Father—old Bataan...'

And his brother saw him falter,
So he laid him gently back,
And heard him softly whisper
'I must leave you now, dear Jack.'
He saw his eyelids quiver
As they closed so very slow.
He realized his brother
Was on this earth no more.
'Oh God! Receive this shattered soul—
'Tis the brother of my childhood
Who's just died here in Bataan.'

That night the pale moon rose
And calmly it shone down
Upon a solemn little funeral
On Bataan's scarred battleground.
His buddies offered up a prayer
Beneath a mango tree
While some of them began to sing
'Nearer My God to Thee.'
Even the bamboo bowed their heads—
There in the war torn land,
While another lad was laid to rest
In a grave in old Bataan.

continues...