Keep on the Firing Line
After my father passed away in the fall of 2021, it took a while to get my head around the fact that he was no longer physically on this earth. That hesitation affected my ability to finish going through closets, drawers, and storage shed to sort the remainder of his things. Finally doing it later, though, I have found inspirational reminders of what a faithful and strong person he was.
I started the cleaning/sorting project while Dad was at Hillcrest Home, initially to get organized and add safety upgrades to his house, in case Covid-19 restrictions increased to a point that I couldn’t in good conscience comply with them. Dad survived a light case of Covid, no problem, and Hillcrest did an admirable job of keeping residents socialized and healthy, so since he was still frail and seemed to be happy and comfortable at the facility, the project got put on hold.
I had given away 1970’s polyester suits that he probably wouldn’t wear again, shredded some bank paperwork far too old to be an issue, a few things like that. After Dad passed away, though, we realized that to sell or rent out the house, we needed to do more updating and remodeling, so I again started to going through things to clear out space for working.
I found items that made me seriously regret not having asked better questions—a whole box of Dad’s World War II items, and my stepmom’s scrapbook with hints at what it was like on the “home front.” I had already located Dad’s honorable discharge paperwork, to get him qualified for VA medical care, but the new box was an amazing find. More photos, some taken during the Occupation of Japan; a hand-signed thank-you letter from President Harry Truman; an Oriental-style necklace. And near the bottom of the box, two merit citations for Marksmanship, one from his training and one following his service, which included the Battles of Okinawa and Saipan.
Those citations hit me hard. Suddenly I understood why Dad gave up hunting after the war, preferring to buy meat from local farmers or raise chickens himself, and why any news of violent shootings was very disturbing to him. According to relatives, Dad had a reputation well before joining the U.S. Marine Corps, for hitting what he shot at, because for poor Ozarks families, supper depended on it. His efficient rifle handling and sure aim, combined with rigorous USMC training, likely ended the war for many Japanese soldiers, perhaps some no older than his own age of 19.
Reading the certificates, I recalled one of Dad’s favorite old gospel songs, one he enjoyed singing at church, or occasionally at our home to the accompaniment of his guitar. “Keep on the Firing Line” was written by J.R. Baxter, Jr. in 1946:
If you’re in the battle for the Lord and right, Keep on the firing line
If you win the vict’ry, brother, you must fight, Keep on the firing line
There are many dangers which we all must face,
And if we die still fighting it is no disgrace
A coward in the service should have no place, so keep on the firing line!
(Chorus)
You must fight, be brave, against all evil
Never run nor even lag behind
If you would win for God and the right,
Keep on the firing line!
(2)
God will only use a soldier He can trust, Keep on the firing line
If you wear the crown, then bear the Cross you must, Keep on the firing line
Life is but to labor for the Master dear
Help to banish darkness and to spread good cheer
We shall be rewarded for our service here, so keep on the firing line!
(3)
When we get to heaven we shall be so glad, Keep on the firing line
We shall praise the Savior for the call we had, Keep on the firing line
‘Twill be joy to see the souls we helped to win,
Those we led to Jesus from the paths of sin,
Hear their welcome shouts as we go marching in,
Keep on the firing line!
Dad began attending church after WWII when he married my mother, and accepted Christ for real in the early 1950’s. I wonder if those words perhaps helped him take more pride in having served, standing firm against an enemy regime. Although he doubtless continued to think of the many he had killed, he had also seen gratitude from Japanese citizens during the Occupation, as American forces helped them rebuild their lives and doors opened for the Gospel as missionaries were able to return.
Dad knew exactly what it was like to stay on the firing line after charging courageously out of a Higgins boat and digging into a rifleman’s nest. Perhaps that song gave new meaning to his service, a fitting metaphor for the fight against sin in this world and the need to free others from its grip.
Thanks, Mr. Baxter, for making the fight against sin relatable to Dad; and thanks to all those who served and continue to do so to protect our freedom.