Roll Call

“Fall in!” the command comes. And we do,

measuring our distance in the ranks, an arm’s

length apart, side to side, front to back. Eyes

straight ahead.

Morning roll call, each day, the military way.

Everyone dressed in fatigues, at attention,

standing upright straight, arms rigid and to

the sides...

“Anderson?” the platoon sergeant calls out.

“Here!” Anderson sharply replies.

“O’ Leary?”

“Here!”

“Ortiz?”

“Present!” (Oh, wise guy eh?).

“Polakowski?”

“Here!”

And throughout the formation the roll proceeds…

“Sampson?”

(No response)

“Sampson?...”

And an answer rings out, “Sampson went on sick

call, Sergeant!”

“Thomas?”

“Here!”…

And on until every man was accounted for.

And so, here I am today some 55-years later.

Here in a different place, far removed from

the world where I used to be.

Here in my current place and time. Here, much

more than an arms length away from society—

a comfortable distance removed, no one to call

out my name, and accountability held to no one

else but me.

Here presently, thank god, and damned lucky

to be. (So many didn’t make it this far.)

For today, all I can say is that I am once again as

I was back then—

“Hanch?”

“Here, yes indeed...and until I am no more,

present and accounted for.”

Chris Hanch 9-23-19