If you have been keeping track, you’ll have noticed that my poems about military friends have been limited to generals, “Big Daddy’s Seventy-Fifth” (Major General Larry Williams), and “The Clausen Anniversary” (Major General Hugh Clausen). Before you conclude that I am just a big suck up, please keep in mind that I had retired from the military long before I wrote those poems. Now, the poem “Fearless Leader” was written about Marc Fleischaker, Chairman of the Executive Committee at Arent Fox, while I was a partner. In that case, I definitely was sucking up!
This poem is about a JAG officer who worked for me at Fort Riley. Bill Heaston and his wife, Dorris, were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. At the time of the anniversary, both Bill and I had retired. So there, it is no longer just generals.
Dorris worked for the Red Cross in Vietnam. The troops called them “Donut Dollies.” As a matter of fact, I think they called themselves “Donut Dollies.” Anyway, Bill was a young JAG captain in Vietnam and that is where they met. Can’t you just see that romantic scene of the two of them holding each other under a mosquito net?
At Fort Riley, we took PT (physical training) every day. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, we would do our daily dozen exercises and then run around post. But on Tuesday and Thursday, we would choose up sides and play soccer. Bill and I were usually picked on opposite sides (it worked better that way). One day, while playing, I ran into Bill and it left a lasting impression. I played football at the University of Missouri and with a low center of gravity and good balance, I usually ran over people (I was the boss, so no one ever complained too loudly). When I hit Bill, it was like running into a big Oak tree. I only ran into him once.
Bill is now general counsel for a telephone company in South Dakota and Dorris is a CPA and a tax consultant. And, when it is not tax season, Dorris is delightful. I have no idea what she is like during tax season, because she doesn’t talk to or see anyone.
Thirty Years and Counting
Thirty years, yes, thirty years,
Now that’s a good chunk of time.
But Dorris and Bill have traveled the path,
And the anniversary’s about to chime.
It sprang out of war in a far distant place,
A transplanted Donut Dolly with a bright shining face,
And a lawyer soldier, with shoulders so square,
There seemed little doubt they’d end up as a pair.
We met at Fort Riley in the Big Red One,
Living on Forsyth and did we have fun.
Our seven children were at home – this sometime caused a prank,
They had John, Rita and Eileen and little Ben the Tank.
Dorris gave Carole a witch costume to wear at Halloween,
She still wears the hat in October and it looks just peachy keen.
The only thing Bill gave Jack was bruises and that’s no joke,
When they collided on the soccer field, it truly would bring smoke.
Now the military life’s behind them and the children all are grown,
The guys still practicing law, the gals cruise the shopping zone.
We get together too seldom, but there’s the RAJA gang,
Where memories can be awakened and spring forward with a clang.
So here’s to the next time together, to the laughter and the tears,
Here’s to a happy anniversary, a fantastic thirty years.
P.S.
Now I’m asking this question to Dorris, I’m cutting her no slack,
After 30 years of marriage, why’s your hair still so black?
