[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 14 (Tuesday, February 24, 1998)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E210]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




A POEM IN TRIBUTE TO PFC. FERREL F. McDONNELL, UNITED STATES ARMY, 66TH 
     PANTHER DIVISION, COMPANY F, 262ND INFANTRY REGIMENT, COMPANY 
                              HEADQUARTERS

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                          HON. JOHN F. TIERNEY

                            of massachusetts

                    in the house of representatives

                       Tuesday, February 24, 1998

  Mr. TIERNEY. Mr. Speaker, I rise to recite a Poem written by Tom 
Cordle that is a tribute to Pfc. Ferrel F. McDonnell and the soldiers 
of the 66th Panther Division who died during the sinking of the S.S. 
Leopoldville on December 24, 1944.

     Hell is not the place you think
     For I have seen its murky ink
     Though there is fire down in that hole
     It's cold and wet and chills the soul
     December Channel, dark and cruel
     Coffin on that mournful Yule
     Fifty years have passed away
     Fifty years like yesterday--

     Christmas Eve of '44
     The Leopoldville just off shore
     Of Cherbourg and its dancing lights
     The U-Boat had us in her sights
     Torpedo caught us in the hold
     The water rushed in--Oh, so cold!
     Steel and wood and flesh all met
     Oh, God! I wish I could forget!

     But heroes rose up everywhere
     Brave hearts fought their own despair
     To comfort wounded, dying, weak
     And tried to find the words to speak
     They gave their all that some might live
     Till they had nothing left to give
     Then prayed to find the strength to stand
     ``God, Oh God, make me a man!''

     The Brilliant came through churning seas
     Answering our urgent pleas
     She pulled along our starb'rd side
     ``Jump or die!,'' her crewmen cried
     Men climbed up on the rolling rail
     And prayed somehow they would not fail
     To breach that twenty feet and odd--
     And leaped into the arms of God

     Some conquered space and borrowed time
     And made the Brilliant or its lines
     But others lost their deadly bet
     And plunged into the dark, cold, wet
     And swallowing sea and fought for breath
     And knew the briny taste of death
     Or fought the water's clawing pull
     Till they were crushed between the hulls

     Strong, young soldiers watching wept
     For promises would not be kept
     For children they had never seen
     For all the dying of their dreams
     Some were but boys, some not quite men
     But they would not be boys again
     For only men survived such sights
     And all grew old in that one night

     Cherbourg glittered on the shore
     Laughing at our dreams of war
     To die and never fire a shot
     To die and never know for what
     No glory, only senseless waste
     With salty, oily aftertaste
     No glory, only drowning dance--
     Death by simple, crazy chance

     But death is not the end of things
     For those who've felt its searing sting
     For hearts that will forever feel
     For wounds that never really heal
     We pay with photos, black and white
     We pay with voices in the night
     We ask the endless haunting why?
     A son or husband had to die

     What matters why the soldier falls?
     What matters but the answered call?
     Who measures sacrifices made?
     Who dares deny the price was paid?
     And there are channels yet to cross
     And wars to fight that can't be lost
     And men will die and do their part
     Till freedom rings in every heart

     So let there be no bitter tears
     Let us remember better years
     And those whose blood has bought and paid
     That we might live lives unafraid
     And let us honor valiant men
     For here tonight, we say again
     There is but one thing worth the price
     Of such unselfish sacrifice
     ``Freedom!'' ``Freedom!'' ``Freedom!''

     

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