"JUST A COWPUNCHER’S HAT"

Dedicated to the memory of Charles A. Spaulding, a Gerlach cowboy

and one of Uncle Sam’s Flyers

 

 

 

Away out in the hills where all Nature thrills

At the sight of a world so fair;

Where the breezes sigh, and they moan and cry

As they float on the mountain air;

 

There’s a cabin old, a haven from cold

For many a tired weary cowhand.

And though deserted it seems, it’s an answer to dreams

And most welcome in this “no man’s land”.

 

If you push open the door you might glance round the floor

And look up at the hat on the wall.

You might start with surprise and with wonder surmise

That its owner is just within call.

 

But as the story is told, a cowboy, of old,

Hung that old hat on that nail one day.

And with a caressing pat to that sweat-stained old hat

He might have been heard to say:

 

“Now I’ve got a job to do that needs attending to

In a land far over the sea,

So I’m leaving this life for one full of strife

And I can’t take you there with me.

 

But you wait for me here, though it may be a year

Till I return here for you once more.

You see, I’ll need you then, when I come back again

When the dark clouds of war have passed o’er.”

 

Well, the days slowly passed.  A year ended at last.

And that old hat still hung on the wall.

It had waited in vain thru’ sunshine and rain

For the one who loved it best of all.

 

 

As the years come and go, who can guess, it might know

That the one who wore it won’t come home.

For though that war long is o’er, he’ll be returning no more

For he sleeps neath the oceans mad foam.

 

So it hangs thru’ the years, guarded well by the tears

In the eyes of his friends, tried and true,

Who’ll let no man destroy the hat prized by that boy

Who gave his All for God, Country and You.

 

As you gaze at it there -- if you find time for a prayer,

Then somewhere, he’ll be proud for he’ll know

That his life never ends in the hearts of his friends

And all those who loved him long ago.

 

 

By: Eldred Jackson (Spaulding)

 

In Memory of

S/Sgt. Charles A. Spaulding

544th Bomb Squadron

384th Bombardment Group (Heavy)

 

Missing in Action 9^th October 1943 after his aircraft ditched in the North Sea,

off the Danish coast.

 

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Poem kindly provided by Kat Lee and reproduced with the family's consent.