"Those Who Die!" by Frank Eisenberg.
Title
"Those Who Die!" by Frank Eisenberg.
Description
“Those Who Die”, was a poem written by Frank Eisenberg. The deaths of those in the protagonist's life who died fighting in World War II are acknowledged. Those who died included the grocer's son, the baker, the laundry man, the fruit man, the plumber's son, and the newsboy, many of the working class people in his life. The poem also acknowledges the deaths of three schoolboys, a neighbor boy, the rich boy up the street and classmates of his son. The poem ends on a positive note and asks that their sacrifice not be in vain and that "greed, lust and hate”, be conquered and make "Honor rise again."
Creator
Frank Eisenberg
Source
Upper Midwest Jewish Artchives: Archives and Special Collections the University of Minnesota Archives.
Box 449, File 15.
Box 449, File 15.
Date
Aug 6, 1944
Format
.doc
Language
English.
Original Format
8 x 11 sheet of paper.
Text
Those Who Die!
The grocer’s son is on Saigon,
The baker’s now in Rome.
The newsboy that we used to have
Lies buried far from home.
The little laundry man is gone,
He lies there waiting, still,
For the transport that will carry him
Back home from Bougainville.
At Kasserine the Plumber’s boy
Picked up a shrapnel bit,
And in London’s robot-bombing hell
Our neighbor’s son was hit.
Three schoolboys lie in Coral Seas,
No more their tramping feet,
Will echo through the corridors
Though the enemy retreat.
With what adventurous spirit
Those youngsters joined the fray,
The morning of December 8th,
I’ve ne’er forget that day.
At Anzie the fruit man’s son
Fell from a sniping Hun,
And many kids my youngster knew
Lie dying in the sun.
That rich kid on the corner
We used to think so swell
Chalked up his fifteenth Zero
And, died in a fiery hell.
The grocer’s a Norwegian,
The finest boy we knew,
The baker was Bohemian,
The newsboy was a Jew.
So rich and poor alike they fall,
A price they’re glad to pay
To cleanse the world of tyranny,
And pave a better way.
And shall we fail those boys who die
Their sacrifice in vain?
Let’s conquer greed and lust and hate,
And make Honor rise again.
Frank Eisenberg
Universal Pictures
Minneapolis, Minn.
August 6, 1944
The grocer’s son is on Saigon,
The baker’s now in Rome.
The newsboy that we used to have
Lies buried far from home.
The little laundry man is gone,
He lies there waiting, still,
For the transport that will carry him
Back home from Bougainville.
At Kasserine the Plumber’s boy
Picked up a shrapnel bit,
And in London’s robot-bombing hell
Our neighbor’s son was hit.
Three schoolboys lie in Coral Seas,
No more their tramping feet,
Will echo through the corridors
Though the enemy retreat.
With what adventurous spirit
Those youngsters joined the fray,
The morning of December 8th,
I’ve ne’er forget that day.
At Anzie the fruit man’s son
Fell from a sniping Hun,
And many kids my youngster knew
Lie dying in the sun.
That rich kid on the corner
We used to think so swell
Chalked up his fifteenth Zero
And, died in a fiery hell.
The grocer’s a Norwegian,
The finest boy we knew,
The baker was Bohemian,
The newsboy was a Jew.
So rich and poor alike they fall,
A price they’re glad to pay
To cleanse the world of tyranny,
And pave a better way.
And shall we fail those boys who die
Their sacrifice in vain?
Let’s conquer greed and lust and hate,
And make Honor rise again.
Frank Eisenberg
Universal Pictures
Minneapolis, Minn.
August 6, 1944
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