The Voice of Bataan

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Bataan

Bataan! America's conscience,

Standing at the edge of the world's heart.

A small island of ashes and dead bodies,

Where the brave stood their ground,


fighting,

Foodless until they were surrounded,


cornered,

Fire on fire falling upon them from the sky;

And the enemy landed, conquered,

As though this island were the world.

Deadly planes scoured the skies,

Submarines nosed the seas— without help,

Without hope for help, they dug into the


ground.

The forest rolled downward. All eyes


skyward,

They saw the enemy cluster like stars,

Dropping flames numerous as clustering


stars.

And they waited for words. But no words


came.
II

Until there were no more hands to move.

Bataan! This was our last island, For the hope we live by. For the future we
live for.
Built in memory of old victories.

Every fighting man stood his ground,

Watching each other's lives, falling


together,

And believing in each other's care,

Peace for the world rested in their ground.

Not afraid to die, they hugged the tight


holes

Until the enemy crept upon them

Who, holding their ground for a brief


moment,

Gave the whole world another hope to hold.

As long as their hearts moved, the guns


loaded,

And the fighting moved through the jungles

And on to the scarred beaches, until there

Were no more guns to load.

They fought to the last man for our island.

For the world's island, that the world's one


world.

Fighting one enemy and one war,


III

Bataan! The world is but an island.

This the brave knew, creeping on the earth


of home,

Holding strength with the other brave,

Those who printed kisses in American


streets;

Not for the wound that opened and hurt,

Not for the flesh that burned, but for the


hate

That blossomed in treetops and doorways:

The hate that crept from hate to


tenderness.

They held the guns straight; plunged down


the hill.

They did not stop to consider our promises.

They fought and fell, not for our promises,

Not for victory, but for the day

That would give the future, and kill the


enemy.

For the indivisible day.

And toward the end: No Surrender.


IV

Bataan! Our fathers knew

The world is but an island, and all men

Fight one war, one enemy. Our age

Called it freedom: one and indivisible.

O America! Until our world's island is won,

Until our freedom is redeemed in freedom,

Until our dead are at peace with the living,

We the living will never rest, will never die


with peace.

The war is a war for life.

The war belongs to all men.


V

Bataan in our heart's island!

We feel every fibre that moves to give


wisdom

To the heart, vision to the eyes, seeing all

The brave rise under one star of liberty.

We face the future with one weapon,

All of us holding each other, men and


women together,

For one hope, one island, one freedom.

The future is living and real,

Stirring in the conscience of America—

Another hope, another proof to the world,

That Bataan did not fall!

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