A
POEM WRITTEN BY DAVE'S GRANDFATHER, MYRON D. CROPPER
I was in Battery B, 232nd Field Artillary Battalion in the 42nd Rainbow
Division of the United States Army. We were in combat in France,
Austria, and Germany.
When the hostilities ceased we were stationed in Austria in the towns
near Salxburg and the mountain retreat, The Eagle Nest, of Adolph Hitler
in Berchtesgaden, Germany.
In one of the towns, we were billeted in a house up on the side of a
mountain high enough to overlook a beautiful valley below. When it was
my turn to be in charge of quarters for a day it was up at dawn and
ended at dusk.
During the day I worked at a table in front of a large window looking
out on the valley. I was so impressed seeing this beautiful valley, now
so calm and peaceful, that i proceeded to put down on paper everything
that came into view as the day progressed. This poem is a result of my
effort and is copyrighted and registered with the Libary of Congress in
Washington D.C.
THE CONQURED VALLEY
>From my window in the valley I see the dawn in the sky
And the sun's golden brush paint the clouds drifting by
Then the haze begins to rise and the wind waves the grain
There is something bright and cheery in the valley once again
In the background are the mountians
With their peaks of clean white snow
And tall stately pine trees on rocky slopes do grow
The houses scattered everywhere are quaint a site to see
Overhanging roof and fancy balcony
The women dressed in costumes the style of long ago
The children making mischief are running to and fro
Men in leather breeches with feathers in their caps
Are on their way to labor with packs upon their backs
The cows in the pastures slowly make their way
Grazing dew covered grass of the new born day
The birds in the trees sing a cheery tune
And the river cross the valley wends it's way to soon
The farmers in the fields are cutting their hay
Making the most of each sunny day
The mountains that surround us fairly kiss the sky
As the hours of the day lazily pass by
All is so calm and surene out of this world like a dream
And the sun that was high now low in the west
It's painting a picture that nature does best
The snow and the clouds are purple and gold
The shadows grow long the evening is cold
Beaming over the moutain which seems far away
The round yellow moon marks the close of another day
Myron D. Cropper
Austria 1945