Although exact figures are not possible, it is estimated that 60 to 72 million people died in World War II, including military dead of 22 to 25 million. Over 400,000 Americans lost their lives in the war. Two plaques in the narthex of the First Presbyterian sanctuary list the names of 285 members of our congregation who served during World War II. Ten of those names are “gold star” names. Go by the narthex this Sunday and share a moment of your time in honor and memory of those men and women.
Today’s poem is by the poet Archibald MacLeish. ”The poet Archibald MacLeish was especially aware of the importance of this sacrifice. As a young man, he had served as an artillery officer in World War I and had witnessed suffering and death on the battlefields of Europe. During the second World War, he took up public service once again, serving as the Librarian of Congress while still writing poetry. When the Library of Congress held a memorial service for all its staff members who had died in the war, MacLeish contributed a powerful poem that not only commemorated the dead, but also made it clear that those who survived bore a special responsibility to make the deaths of these soldiers meaningful. As you read this poem, think about what the poem suggests as possible ways to live up to such a great sacrifice. You might also think about the sacrifices that other people have made for you.”…. from the website of the Library of Congress.
THE YOUNG DEAD SOLDIERS DO NOT SPEAK
By Archibald MacLeish
Nevertheless they are heard in the still houses: who has not heard them?
They have a silence that speaks for them at night and when the clock counts.
They say, We were young. We have died. Remember us.
They say, We have done what we could but until it is finished it is not done
They say, We have given our lives but until it is finished no one can know what our lives gave.
They say, Our deaths are not ours: they are yours: they will mean what you make them.
They say, Whether our lives and our deaths were for peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say: it is you who must say this.
They say, We leave you our deaths: give them their meaning: give them an end to the war and a true peace: give them a victory that ends the war and a peace afterwards: give them their meaning.
We were young, they say. We have died. Remember us.
