A poem by Giuliano Quilici
Introduction:
My parents were separated by two countries. My mother was in Fascist Italy. My father was in America. They were separated for approximately fifteen years.
My brother’s name was Giuliano Quiliano. He chose to fight for America during World War II. When he was drafted, he was assigned to the amphibious 77th Infantry Division of the US Marine Corps. Ernie Pyle, the beloved journalist of the GI’s was killed in action at le Shima, Ryuku Islands while accompanying the 77th Infantry Division.
Giuliano survived five battle campaigns, including Iwo Jima. One of his duties was the flame thrower. He took out the snipers that targeted the flame throwers. He took out a pillbox in order to save himself and the other soldiers in his group. Most likely he should have gotten the Medal of Honor for that but he was a quiet man and never asked for anything nor did he talk much about the war. He left the military with the rank of Corporal.
The introduction and this poem is dedicated to all those who fought, died or survived that terrible war. I tried to capture the essence of the war.
Dance With the Devil
One can say
war is hell, to say
that WWII Pacific theater of war
is hell a PROFOUND understatement
Love for fellow soldiers
Hate for the enemy
young soldiers thrown
into brutal battles, murderous fire
Uphill fighting
pillboxes waiting
Battleships it by Kamikaze
Enemy rummages in the jungle
and yell in perfect English
“Go to hell”
Every minutes a soldier is
killed or wounded
Smell of death, all around
Racing thoughts, this.
their last time on earth!
Run and shoot
Enemies fading into jungle
Trees appear, like human skeletons
Now in hand to hand combat
Being wounded in Iwo Jima
was the Rule!
Shells whizzed overhead repeatedly
Flashes of gunfire
Blasts of bombs
Flame thrower
flames into tunnel!
Running over dead bodies
Special courage
to survive the carnage
It came down to
Kill or be killed
Surprises, sinking black sand
Hidden pillboxes
Massive tunnel systems
Enemies determined with ferocity
Americans equally determined
Americans possessed a unique bravery
in the face of such determined brutality
Humanity has left
Hatred has taken over
Battles beyond bloody
heat and sun  unbearable
Water hard to find
More torn bodies
broken equipment and body parts
litter the landscape
Images become memories
That will never go away,
They are etched into one’s soul
The hate so profound, so alive it consumes
Act of bravery
pillbox appears
Thoughts race
it will have to be taken out
Or, buddies will die
Against almost insurmountable odds,
creeping into dangerous territy
Tossed a grenade into pillbox
For a moment in time,
safety
For a moment in time,
happy to be alive
But only a moment
Death and destruction all around
Living and dead tossed upward,
downward, inward
The black sand seems to whisper
“Be brave, do not fear” and
I dance for the joy of surviving
My dance with the devil
on the edge of infinity