David Baillie

U.S. Warrior Poets

David Baillie was raised and educated in New York and Massachusetts. Baillie left high school to enlist in the army, under age, and later become an infantry instructor at Fort Benning, Georgia. He did several tours of duty in Korea. Following the war, he served with the New York State National Guard and the Army Reserves. Taking advantage of the GI Bill, Baillie continued his education and earned degrees in counseling and education. The poems that follow are from his book, Dry Tears.


 

 

 

 

 

 

Ernest Botti served in Korea as a first lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force, 339th/ 319th Fighter Squadrons.


Earl Carson is a resident of Washington State. He served in the Korean War from September 1950 to November 1951, in C Company, 1st Tank Battalion, 1st Marine Division FMF.


Donald A. Chase lives in Massachusetts.  He joined the US Army Reserves in 1944, and later enlisted in the regular army.  Chase served with the 89th Infantry Division in Europe during The Second World War, and re-enlisted at the outbreak of the Korean War. He arrived in Korea in 1951. Wounded three times during the war, Chase was discharged in 1953.


William Childress, of Folsom, California served in the Korean War as a demolitions specialist. As a photo journalist, he was nominated twice for the Pulitzer Prize.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert Echelbarger of Mason City, Iowa was a private first class who worked his way up to a sergeant during the Korean War. Beginning in 1946 he served a two-year hitch in the military, then joined the inactive reserves. He was recalled to active duty when the Korean War broke out, and served with F-2-5 Marines in Korea from during 1951. Echelbarger’s poem “I am” is followed by, “Those Damn Hills,” an entry from his journal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Born in the U.S. Southwest., Rolando Hinojosa grew up in a bilingual household. He joined the army in 1946, and served in the Caribbean as a radio announcer and editor of the Army Defense Command newspaper. A professor of English, Hinojosa served as director of the Texas Center for Writers for almost ten years. He is most known for Klail City Death Trip, a series of bilingual and bicultural novels. The first novel in the series, Estampas del Valle won him the national award for Chicano literature in 1972. Four years later he won the highest award for the novel in Latin America, the Premio de las Casas de las Americas for Klail City y sus alrededores.  His work has been translated into several languages. 


 

 

 

 

 

 

William Wantling was born in Illinois. At the age of 17, he joined the Marines and applied for combat duty. He was wounded and suffered from severe burns. In order to endure the pain Wantling was given morphine to which he became addicted. He was dishonorably discharged in 1955. Wantling’s life following the war was one of mishaps, addiction and incarceration. However, he remains one of the most respected poets of the literary underground. He died of an overdose at the age of 41.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Born in New Mexico, Keith Wilson was a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy, and worked as a professor of english at New Mexico State University for more than 20 years until his retirement in 1988. Wilson has received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Border Book Festival, a National Endowment of the Arts Creative Writing Fellowship, a D.H. Lawrence Creative Fellowship, a Senior Fulbright-Hayes Fellowship, a P.E.N. America Writing Grant, the New Mexico Governor’s Award for Excellence and Achievement in Literature, and New Mexico State University’s Westhafer Award.  His most recent book is Transcendental Studies.




 

David Baillie

David Baillie was raised and educated in New York and Massachusetts. Baillie left high school to enlist in the army, under age, and later become an infantry instructor at Fort Benning, Georgia. He did several tours of duty in Korea. Following the war, he served with the New York State National Guard and the Army Reserves. Taking advantage of the GI Bill, Baillie continued his education and earned degrees in counseling and education. The poems that follow are from his book, Dry Tears.


"Naktong River"

Blare of bugles send chills through early morn mist,
ghostly figures form row after row on distant shore,
river fog rises to hide terror’s view, from their quest,
numbers grow and grow as bugles blare, a 100 an 100 more.

Suddenly all is still just before the rows of gray launch,
fires of death race across their ranks, from our tanks,
muddy river turns blood red as row of gray, fire breached,
human form 100 and more become mounds upon sandbar, death ranks.

More still more closer, closer rows of gray breach the shore,
fifty yards, twenty closer too, sounds of death to hear,
point-blank in the rows of gray, they still come as before,
200 and 200 more, over others laying on shore, in no fear.

Bugles blare, into brightness of day, lives lost in Malay,
sweat and tears, bodies worn, fire more from morn to dusk,
to stop would be to betray a trust, red hot guns in the fray,
fallen comrades still, that line of steel can’t go bust.

Like lighting fire-flies rounds of death streak across river,
from this side to that snuffing out life in their flashes,
steel blades to hold the line from evil across the river,
no tears for fallen, no time to stop flow of life from gashes.

No young men here now all as old as time itself, for evermore,
moment to moment recalled forty ears from now is true,
gone the baby face smile of youth, swallowed, by horror’s gore,
dreams of the river clear today, nor sleep the night through.

Dusk revealed gray mounds along the shore an all was still,
distant sounds from human forms heard to replace bugles blare,

night’s darkness hide the sights from eyes that would chill,
no life, soul or breath to give, question if God is still here.

Forgotten but by a few, this river crossing of life and death,
memories all too clear for young men, now old ones too,
the day was saved, the cost too high to equate, in a breath,
the river that turned red for a long, long day forgotten too.

"In Country"

The smell of death all around, will there be an end,
short timers don’t even smile, they been in country too long,
a new phrase then but now known by all friends,
deep in rice paddy mud, time left is too long.

Rain and sweat soak you through and through, blood too,
there are no safe places to hide if you could, and would,
mounds of empty shells fill the field, body bags too,
one more day, each day after another, go home you should.

There are some who stay in country for times over due,
they think if they do one less new is needed to come over,
to save a life anyway they can is the plan and that’s true,
another time, have been a great country with green cover.

Now all one thinks about is to get out of, in country,
each day is counted off to the hour short or long to go,
last sight seen is it fading beneath the clouds, in country,
back into the real world, what’s that? Anyway we go…


Questions for Reflection: “Naktong River” and “In Country”

  1. Describe life across the banks of the Naktong?
  2. How does the physical scene presented by Baillie in his poem, “Naktong River, hide the enemy?
  3. Baillie uses the phrase, “in no fear.” What does this imply?
  4. What significance does the blare of bugles play in the poem, “Naktong River?”
  5. Talk about the soldiers at Naktong River. Who are they? Who have they become?
  6. Describe in your own words what you think is meant by the concept, “in country?”
  7. Talk about the significance of time in Baillie’s poem, “In Country.”
  8. How can a person return home when he is “in country?” Why would it be important to do so?
  9. Explain why people stay “in country?” Who is the “new” that is referred to in the poem?