---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Peterson, Fred
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 22
number: 4
published: 1919-02
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Peterson, Fred, "A Soldier’s Vision," *Improvement Era* 22, no. 4 (February 1919): 317.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2204unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera2204unse
start_page: 317
end_page: 317
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1919-02)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2204unse
  publication_year: 1919
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1919, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# A Soldier’s Vision

<!-- page:317 -->

HOME POEMS                                       317

               "He did a great, unselfish work
                 For those who never saw this light.
               He buckled all Christ's armor on,
                 And by his labors kept it bright.
               And more; in all the trivial acts
                 By which we keep our mortal breath,
               He dealt as should a man whose life
                 Is pledged to Him —for life or death.

               "He wished in flesh to meet his God,
                  But died, as he had lived, resigned;
               Christ did not come, but he has gone,
                  His body to the earth consigned.
               It matters little when our work
                  Is done, and eyes grow weak and dim,
               Whether the dear Lord comes to us,
                  Or we, through death, may go to Him."
               And this was all; a few short words
                 Of prayer, the dead man's grave was filled
               And rounded up with decent care;
                 Dried were the tears that friendship spill'd.
               Old Jacob Pete'rsen was dead,
                 And buried, too, but few there be
               Can such heroic record claim,
                 Unspotted, as was given thee.

               He reached no heights of brilliant fame
                 In war, in learning, wealth or power;
               But with the talent God had given
                 He wrought his task out hour by hour,
               And paved to heaven a path of gold,
                 By doing duties that God gave.
               Who'd think a hero slept beneath
                 To see "Old Jacob's" humble grave?
                                                                 -E. J.

                     A Soldier's Vision
There's a little girl I'm loving in the land across the sea,
Through the softness of the twilight she comes creeping close to me.
I can almost feel her handclasp, I can see her tender eyes,
As they glow across the darkness with a light that never dies.
                                —
Oh, a hard day lies behind me there's a bitter dawn ahead;
There's a man next door who's moaning, and my bunkie mate lies dead;
But she's coming through the shadows, and her glance is misty bright,
And I know her love is near me through the horror of the night.
Yes—6he gave me to our country, though she might have made me             stay.
How she kissed me, smiling bravely, as she brushed the tears away!
And her voice rings past the moaning, past the battle raging near,
And she says, "Be true and fearless, just because I love you, dear."
There's a little girl, she's waiting in the land across the foam,
And I know that she is praying that with honor I'll come home:
And I make myself a promise that I'll justify her plan—
The ideal that she sets me of a soldier and a man!
                 Prvt. Fred Peterson, in the Stars and Stripes, France.