Vern Preble’s Ambulance Blown up by a Tank Mine | Archives of the American Field Service and AFS Intercultural Programs

"PREB"

Poem by "Fox" Edwards, In Memory of Vernon W. Preble

They wrapped him in an American flag

And stuck a wooden cross in the soft ground at his head.

It was his last slit trench.

"I guess I won’t drink any beer for a while"

was all he said

when they pulled his burned body free.

The fire

had scorched his eyes

his face

his hands and body.

Pinned down

In the torn and mangled ambulance,

trapped,

he fought clear of the flames

in the sickening seconds after the roar

of the bursting mine.

It was a brave fight

for life.

He lived four days more.

They found him

beside his ambulance

that the mine had burned and killed.

An ambulance in war

Is part of those who live in it,

drive it over steep hills and through rivers

where shells are dropping.

It is like a live thing

helping wounded men,

and where men who can not be saved

sometimes die.

His ambulance would not go on without him.

They picked him up

from beside the charred wheel

that he had held

at Mareth,

Enfidaville,

the Sangro River.

His life meant many lives saved.

We loved him

for his tousled boyishness,

and because of the times

he made us laugh

when laughing was hard.

It took guts

to say

"Guess I won’t drink any more beer…"

Location: At the First Crossing of the Sangro R. [River].