Granddad Poem by Charles Hancock

He likes to doodle on a sketch pad
Often drawing himself with his granddad
A man he only knows from a photograph
And a cold, granite stone epitaph

In the image, Granddad was clad in green
He had a rifle, helmet, and canteen
And he was standing with a group of men
All together, their number was ten

Each of them was dressed the same
Listed on the back was every name
The date on it was February 1967
The year before Granddad went to Heaven

He keeps the snapshot in his room
Bringing it when we visit the tomb
That holds his granddad's remains
And he reads the fallen troops' names

Granddad didn't have any fame or treasure
But he was a good man by any measure
Now his name is eternally etched into a wall
A true American hero who gave all