The Hands
by Richard Brewer, USMC Beirut Veteran
The hands that were once used as a pacifier for a new
born child
The hands that were used to reach out to hold my
mother’s legs
The hands that were held by my parents to ensure I
stay close by
The hands that awkwardly wrote that first love note in
third grade
The hands that were used as a teenager to prove my
self-worth
The hands that reached out and held my first girlfriend
The hands that struggled to break away from ordinary
and reached for extraordinary
These were the hands that first felt the cold comfortable steel of my newly issued M16A1 service rifle
These were the hands that spent weeks feeling, touching, learning every part of the very weapon that was to
keep me and others alive
These were hands that proudly had the Eagle, Globe
and Anchor pressed into its palm transforming from a
mere mortal to a Marine.
These were the hands that committed to God, Country,
and Corps
These were the hands that rose and swore to defend These were the hands that embraced the brotherhood
this nation from the enemy; foreign and domestic.
that has been bonded by blood, sweat and tears.
These were the hands that nervously grasped the stair These were the hands that grasped the seat of the
rails of a bus bound for Parris Island in the middle of swaying Chinook as it took evasive action while delivthe night.
ering us to the hostile shores.
These were the hands that were held tight to the seams These were the hands that held firm, aimed true and
of my “trousers” while being screamed at standing on gently squeezed the trigger to silence a different set of
yellow footprints
hands that will forever remain unknown
These were the hands that climbed obstacles they nev- These were the hands that steadied scared people as
er thought possible, that learned to defend for the they were gently pushed to waiting choppers to carry
righteous
them from the surreal reality of war to safety
The Warrior Heart November 2014 - 19