There was a P38 in the sock drawer…

 – Surrender

Tucked under his socks in a dresser drawer
was a German P38, holstered in worn
black leather so thick it looked like elephant’s skin,
and the pungent mix of leather and gun oil still strong
after all these years; it is a trophy, sort of, he said,
from a funny thing that happened when driving
a Colonel’s jeep and chauffeuring maps, and
a starving German soldier appeared roadside
raised his arms in surrender and offered his rifle,
bayonet, and this P38 to a U.S. soldier who was in
the war but said he didn’t see war like so many had;
and without knowing better, he chauffeured his prisoner
sitting in the Colonel’s seat into camp
to be met by anxious MP’s and dressed down
by everyone but rewarded with this P38;
he told the story sheepishly so many years later
and was patient when I asked,
over-and-over again, if he’d ever killed anyone,
shot anyone, blow-up anyone, and he said,
thankfully, no, and I didn’t understand at all
why that was good and he was thankful.

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