This is a poem written by my dad in 1943 while he was serving in the U.S. Army in the South Pacific — not in Tahiti unfortunately, but in New Guinea in this case. During most of the war, however, he was in Australia, for better or for worse. He wrote this for my mom in honor of her 34th birthday:

If ever I get back alive, perhaps some time in ’45,
    I’ll come back home and set myself right there,
I’ll get leaflets, ads, and books, from the travel man at Cook’s,
    And I’ll read them all, while sitting in my chair.

I’ll read about lagoons, and the lovely south sea moons,
    And the palm trees on the shores of Milney Bay.
But I won’t be such a ninny as to cruise out to New Guinea,
    I’ll do all my cruising in my Chevrolet.

The ads say it’s terrific, to sail the blue Pacific,
    To ride the seas in freighters or in tramps.
But eating mangoes or papaya, out in Fiji or Hawaii,
    Gives me nothing but a bellyache and cramps.

All these ads are just baloney: I would rather swim at Coney
    And feed myself on apple pie and pork.
They tell most romantic tales, of the shores of New South Wales,
    But I’d settle for a park bench in New York.

So, take your isles romantic
In Pacific or Atlantic
Where the vegetation’s tropical and lush.

Get me back to where it’s noisy
Near the factories of Joisey
With a bathroom where the toilets really flush!

—H.A.D., Milne Bay, New Guinea, Oct. 20, 1943.

Categories: Life, Travel