[Newspaper clipping.  Maybe from a Pierre newspaper]

I have been saving a little poem by Willis J. Green ... Neighbor Green commented on President Trumanís action in providing a place in Arlington Cemetery for the Indian soldier who was refused burial in Iowa because of race.  Memorial Day is an appropriate time to publish his words.


             Willis J. Green


Thereís a place they call Korea.

On a foreign, distant shore,

Where our brave boys fought for freedom

In a bloody shooting war.


Amid the cannon roar and rattle

ĎNeath the deadly shrapnel scream,

Fell an Indian boy in battle

He was on the freedom team.


In one of our United States,

He was refused the right

To rest there in a soldiers grave.

Because he wasnít white.


We hope some day to have a world,

Thatís free from war and greed,

Where men are judged for what they do,

Not color, race or creed.


When off in foreign countries

Our soldiers fight and fall,

To make this land of plenty

A free place for us all;


They do it for their birthright,

Their neighbors and their kin,

And they never stop to wonder

Whatís the color of the skin.


Then to his grieving widow

A message was sent;

It came from Washington, D.C.

Signed from the President.


He told her if she wished,

Arrangements could be made

To bury him in Arlington,

With all expenses paid.


Ina grave down in Virginia,

Where the wind blows soft and warm,

Sleeps a G.I. Joe in Arlington

In O.D. uniform.


He sleeps the sleep of heroes,

Among the honored dead,

And god on high wonít turn him out

Because his skin was red.