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A Collection of Poems By Alfred James Krieg 1887 - 1965 Native Son of Mallard, Iowa Biographical Sketch My grandfather, Alfred James Krieg was born
on the 7th of February 1887 on his fathers farm outside Mallard, Palo Alto
County, Iowa. He was the grandson of
German speaking Swiss immigrants who came to the United States in 1854. They homesteaded their Iowa farm in 1868
according to county homestead records.
He was the son of John Casper Krieg and Cora Adelle Young. He attended local schools and grew to manhood
in the Mallard area. He was united in
marriage to Rhoda M. Hersom on the 6th
of March 1912 in Emmetsburg, Palo Alto County, Iowa. He was twenty five and she
was seventeen years old. To this union
seven children were born, they were
Marie, Arden, Maureen, Alden, Marian, Marilyn, and Marlene. It is to his second son Alden we must be grateful for the preservation of this
collection of poetry and stories. Alfred
and his young family lived on the family farm until the early 1930’s when
Alfred gave up farming and became a carpenter. His brother Charlie took over
the family farm and it remained in the Krieg family until Charlie’s death in
the late 1960’s My
grandparents marriage had always been stormy but when he gave up farming it
caused a unforgivable rift between my grandparents. My grandmother loved the land and farming and
never forgave my grandfather for leaving the farm. Grandpa worked around Iowa but work was
scarce during the depression and he went to west coast and did defense work.
Both of his sons and his two oldest daughters were living and working on the
west coast at this time also. As his poems show he missed his family and Iowa
greatly. After the death of his wife in
1953 he moved permanently to Portland, Oregon where his son Alden and his
daughters Marian, Marliyn (Lynn), and Marlene (Jo) also lived. He died in Portland in 1965 and is buried
there. The family placed a stone on his
wife’s grave in Emmetsburg with both Alfred and Rhoda’s names on it in memory
of their parents. My
own memories of my grandfather were of a large happy old fellow who always
smoked cigars and told funny stories and always greeted little girls with a
soft pinch on the cheek and the greeting “Howdy Dewdrop” or “Good Morning
Glory”. He would play endless jolly
games of pinochle late into the night with my parents and older brother Ralph
or my oldest sister Vernice. He also
enjoyed sitting around with all his grandchildren in the evenings and singing
lovely old songs like “A Your Adorable” , “Moonlight Bay” or “I Love You a
Bushel and a Peck” until all the younger children were sleepy and had to be put
to bed. Then the card games began. I sang all these old songs to my children and
they never fail to bring back fond memories of my childhood and my Grandpa
Krieg Nedra Krieg Bennett December 2002 War on the Pacific I was standing by the ocean On the great Pacific shore, And the waters were in motion I could hear the billows roar, O’er the waves the seagulls hovered As the foam came splashing in. And I wondered what they covered In this war so harsh and grim. As I gazed across the water That the Ships so buoyant ride, I could visualize the slaughter That the waves were trying to hide. Over there our boys are fighting Our freedom to defend, And the Jap’s they’ll keep on smiting Till this war is at an end. Then my heart is filled with sorrow And I gently say a prayer, For I know that on the morrow Some of them will not be there. For I know in Battles gory, Some sailors true and brave, Will go down to save Old Glory To a dark and watery grave. Now some mother’s heart is pining For her boy will not come home, And you’ll see a gold star shining As she sits there all alone. And some sweetheart is a yearning For her love who went away, Who promised on returning That they’d name the happy day. Then as the foam came splashing in Upon this rugged shore, I hoped and prayed that ne’er again We’d have another war. by Alfred J. Krieg As he gazed upon the Pacific Ocean during World War II All Out for Defense - 1942 We are working on defense work To help to win the war, And we will surely do so As we always have before. Men of all denomination Are working side by side, To help retain the freedom For which our fathers died. Some of the men are veterans Of world war number one, And they work right on with us Until the job is done. Sometimes we get quite lonely For we’re miles away from home, But we must keep our dear flag flying Above the White House dome. At times our hearts are yearning For those of whom we’re fond, But we are not as far from home As the boys across the pond. We all must work our hardest With concrete, nails, and bolts, For the boys across the water Are taking harder jolts. We all must keep on striving To do our very best, If we furnish the equipment Our boys will do the rest. Sometimes we have no sugar At times but little meat, But none of us should grumble If our boys have lots to eat. Then we must speed production, Turn out more planes and tanks, For we know when they are finished, They’ll be manned by fighting Yanks. So we must all cooperate And do the best we can, And also buy defense Bonds To help our Uncle Sam. Then we must keep on working In cold, and wind, and dust, And we’ll lick the Japs and Nazi “We can, we will,
we must.” Alfred J. Krieg Dust Valley Blues Out in Tooele Valley The land of wind and dust, Where raindrops never hit you And tools will never rust. You wake up in the morning, If you have been asleep, And then step out upon the floor In dust two inches deep. You haven’t rested very much, Your bed is hard as rocks, You grab your pants and don them, And then look for your socks. You look around till you remark I’ll find them socks or bust, And them you finally spy them Beneath a pile of dust. You rush out to the toilet A feeling not so fine, And when you finally get there You’ve got to stand in line. And then speed to the mess hall Afraid you’ll miss you ride, And you are greeted with these words, “Go round to other side.” You stand in line about an hour Till you are tired to death, And then you go into the hall With dust upon your breath. And then sit at the table And hunt your fork and spoon, You’ll find it just beneath the dust But not so very soon. You sit there waiting for an hour To get some food you hope. And then you get disgusted And go out on the lope. You grad your lunch and hurry out To try and catch your truck, And you may spy it thru the dust If you have lots of luck. You climb upon this rattling truck ‘Bout five feet from the ground, You stand up all the way to work There’s no room to sit down. You ride for miles in morning air Till you are chilled quite thru, And then start in to building Another igloo. You lift the pan up o’re you They’re heavier than lead And now and then a pan comes down And bangs you on the head. You work beneath a blazing sun In dust up to your knees, And when you stop to eat your lunch You wheeze and cough and sneeze. You eat the stuff they call your lunch, All covered o’er with dust, T’was just the same the day before When you so loudly cussed. They feed so much saltpeter In all your daily food, That even if you do go home You won’t be any good. And when you go to get a drink You then will show your wrath, You say this water would be fine If we had it for bath. And when you take your daily bath Beside the toilet sink, You say this water would be fine If we had it for drink. When you come in from work at eve All filled with vague disgust, You’ll find your only Sunday clothes Are covered o’er with dust. You look upon your cot and spy A notice of your rent, Then find that thieves have cleaned you They’ve only left the tent. You take a bath and then proceed Back to that old mess hall, But you are mighty lucky You then lie down upon your cot To try and take a nap, But just as you start dozing off You hear that old tent flap. You finally do go back to sleep So tired you could die, But just as you start into dream A train goes screaming by. You then turn over on your cot Your body wracked with pain, And hear a loud approaching noise Ye Gods, another train !! Eventually all tired out You fall asleep again, And dream of home now miles away Of crops and grass and rain, And then you dream of pay day You’ll have a little sport. But you are disillusioned For your checks are always short. You wake up in the morning All tired and stiff and sore. And feel you do not give a darn If you never work no more. But then you go to work again, Follow the same routine, Just a longing for a place To work where it is clean. Good-bye Tooele Valley I’m leaving here at noon, And if I ever do return It will be much too soon. I’m going back to civilization To wife and kids and home, And there I’ll settle down for good No more I care to roam. Composed by A. J. Krieg Mallard, Iowa So Lonely You’ve gone away and I’m alone, No one to kiss, when I come home. No pleasant smile to greet me know, No hand to lay upon my brow. No sweet words now from one so fair. Nobody now who’d really care, If I get wet from soaking rain. If I was sick or in great pain. Las night I lay upon my bed, The pillow ‘neath my aching head. You’re soft white arm was not in place. Where oft I’ve lain my shaven face. I miss your prayers when I retire. In mornings when I build the fire. I miss you evenings when I dine. For your company my dear I pine. As I sit here upon the chair, There’s memories of you everywhere. (this poem was written in 1943 while working The box behind the kitchen range. in Cepale’s Beach, Washington after my wife The curtains that I will not change. had paid me a visit and had left to go back The towel that hangs upon the nail. to
Iowa) Your teapot and the water pail. The clothes a hanging on the rack. You fixed for me ere you went back. The books arranged so very swell. The Bible to save me from “Hell.” Now darling you can understand They all were touched by your dear hand. Since you have gone, my darling wife There’s something missing from my life. And in my heart there’ll be a pain Till we’re together once again. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg A Poem to You My Love To-night I’m sad and lonely As I sit here all alone I have no dear ones near me And I’m far away from home. I dream of you in night time I think of you by day And my heart is always heavy With you so far away. I took you in your tender teens Made you my bonnie bride And now for more than thirty years We’ve traveled side by side. You loved me so intensely I was your only love And for a few short years You were my turtle dove. And then I spurned your dearest love And trampled on your heart From that time on for many years We drifted far apart. And then we sowed our wild oats Reaped nothing but disgust For we were both mistaken We just satisfied their lust. Thank God we both awakened Before to late my dear And confessed to one another And made our conscience clear. And now you love another And my heart is filled with pain But you’re still my children’s mother And I’ll win you back again. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Untitled poem Last night I sat on the bunkhouse step Thinking my dear of you The silvery moon was shinning down And the stars were twinkling too I thought of the happy days gone by Sitting there all alone I thought of dear old Iowa My children, wife, and home My mind went back to when we met You were a tiny girl You used to climb upon my lap And put my hair in curl You grew into a comely lass And I never will forget And thought the years have speeded past I still remember yet The happy smiles you gave to me When I came to court you dear Bring back a pleasant memory And I yearn to have you near And then I took you for my wife Those were such happy days But then came trouble, quarrels and strife We both went different ways But now your hair has turned to gray I love you more than then And darling I will never say Things to break your heart again And now though we are miles apart I think of you always And hope you think of me sweetheart For we’ll have happier days And though I’m very lonely honey Alone out here in the West I’m trying to earn the money To build us a love nest. Written at Wendover, Utah 1943 during World War II by
Alfred J. Krieg Moonlight Blues Last night I strolled along the beach Watching the out-going tide And wished you were within my reach A walking by my side. I tried to visualize you there A walking on the sand I saw your face so sweet and fair We were walking hand in hand. The silvery moon was shinning bright The stars were twinkling too It made my heart feel warm and light Just to merely think of you. It made me think of days my love When you and I first met Those are the days I’m thinking of The days I can’t forget. Now we are miles apart my dear And both of us feel blue But let us both keep up good cheer For there’s nothing we can do. Remember dear the darkest hour Is just before the dawn And after every thunder shower The sun shines on the lawn. So let us not bewail and pout And mourn both night and day For when again the sun comes out We’ll be happy blithe and gay. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Woman She’s an angel in truth, a demon in fiction A woman’s the greatest of all contradiction She’s afraid of a cockroach, she’ll scream at a mouse But she’ll tackle a husband as big as a house She’ll take him for better, She’ll take him for worse She’ll split his head open and then be his nurse And when he is well and can get out of bed She’ll pick up a teapot and throw at his head She’s faithful, deceitful, keen-sighted and blind She’s crafty, she’s simple, she’s cruel, she’s kind She’ll lift a man up, she’ll cast a man down She’ll make him her hero, her ruler, her clown You fancy she’s this, but you’ll find that she’s that For she’ll play like a kitten, and fight like a cat. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg My Paradise I wish to tell you, with all due pride About the place where I reside, “A beauty spot, out in the West.” Where nature must have done her best, To make this Glen a paradise, That can’t be beat at any price. The warm, bright sun, the gentle showers, The scenery you could watch for hours, The verdant slopes, the whispering pines, The soft green Ferns, the clinging Vines, The murmuring brooks, the woodland flowers, The shady nooks, the sheltered bowers, The houses nestling, among the hills, The winding roads, its joys and thrills, The evenings so serene and quiet No clamoring noises in the night The creeping daylight of the dawn As quiet and gentle as a “Fawn” The frisking lambs, the song of birds, Are all too beautiful for words. So now you see how I am blessed ? In my little home, out in the West. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Tree of Knowledge How nice twould be if knowledge grew On bushes as the berries do. Then we could plant our spelling seed And gather all the words we need. If we wished to learn Chinese, We’d just go out and shake the trees. Our sum’s from off our slates we’d wipe, And wait for figures to be ripe. Language would drift around like leaves, So everything would be correct if you please. Reading and etc we would know, Everything perfect from head to toe. But until that day comes around, Our lessons in our books will be found. Alfred J. Krieg Grandmas Cookie Jar There is something in the Kitchen And it stands upon a shelf All the Kiddies have an itchin Just to go and help themselves. It is something quite attractive For the kiddies near and far, And the kids get really active For it’s Grandma’s cookie jar. There are things that I could mention That are found about the place, But there’s none gets more attention As depicted by their Face. She makes cookies by the dozens And they’re always up to par, And the kids and all their cousins Head for Grandma’s cookie jar. Sometimes they’re made with icing And sometimes they are plain, But they always are enticing And they like them just the same. But whether they are round or square Or just a plain fig bar, You’ll always find them gathered there Round Grandma’s cookie jar. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Trust in Jesus When you’re feeling sand and lonely, As with strangers you reside There is one to turn to only Then let Jesus be your guide. When you fear for your behavior, And you’re tempted to go bad Put your faith in our dear Savior, He will cheer you when you’re sad. There are times when we are tempted To stray from the righteous path, For there’s none of us exempted In this world of storm and wrath. When the gentle whispering breezes Waft your thoughts of far off home, If you trust your heart with Jesus, You will never feel alone. As we gaze upon the ocean At the trees and virgin sod, It is like a soothing lotion For it’s the handiwork of God. His is love that never ceases So when your heart is filled with grief, Just put your trust in Jesus And you’ll always find relief. There are times we’re sick and weary And feel so sad and blue, But our Lord was always cherry And he suffered more than you. Than tho we’re father, sister, brother Tho we’re many miles apart, Let us pray for one another It will cheer our lonely heart. And when this war is finished And we trust our lives with “Him,” If our faith has not diminished We’ll be happy once again. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Easter Sunday 1943 At Marshfield, Oregon, 2500 miles from home. Service With A Smile When you’re hungry and you wish to eat While you’re in Auburn town Just patronize the Rainbow For there’s no use looking round. Just park your automobile Don’t drive another mile For the food it is delicious And they serve you with a smile. The meats are nice and juicy And the vegetables are swell, They give you dandy service And you do not have to yell. But if they’re very busy And you must wait a while, Please now don’t get angry For they serve you with a smile. The coffee it is excellent The best that you could have, And you don’t drink lots of water ( the manager [of the Rainbow Café] had this Just to get a little “Jav.” poetry put in the Auburn (Oregon) paper for an The waitresses dress neatly, ad and he gave me ten meals for writing it. Everything is right in style, This is the one I sent to Aldie.) But the best part of the service is, They give it with a smile. The dessert and the ice cream Will give you a surprise, They also have variety In a nice line of pies, So if you act a gentleman And refrain from language vile, You’ll always get good service And they’ll give it with a smile. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Herb’s International Flavor When you’re in the town of Mallard On highway seventeen. And you’re feeling mighty “HUNGRY” And your appetite is keen. Then you better go a “RUSHIN” To Evelyn’s Café, Where they always “FI-JI” plenty Before you go away. The cooking is delicious And the pastry is superb, And it’s also quite nutritious, For it’s prepared by HERB. The coffee’s also excellent, The best that you could have. You don’t drink a lot of water Just to get a little “JAV.” The potatoes they are “IRISH” And the steak is sometimes “SWISS.” But they also serve you “FRENCH FRIES” So you can’t complain of this. And when they serve you “TURKEY” There is never too much “GREECE,” It’s served on best of “CHINA” But not by “JAPANESE.” So when you are in Mallard Don’t hasten to get away, Until you’ve had your luncheon, At EVELYN’S CAFÉ……….. Composed by A. J. Krieg
Mrs. Judkins is so gentle and kind Mrs. Judkins makes me think of that mother of mine. She runs errands with a glad heart Seems more than willing to do her part. It’s a credit to know her I am sure She tries so hard your blues to cure We will meet again I hope someday In heaven above when we get our pay. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg An Ode To Our Anniversary Years have passed away, my wife, Since I took you for my bride, And tho’ we’ve passed thru storm and strife, Our love has never died. Oh, happy days we’ve spent, dear, This poem was written for his wife Rhoda Hersom Krieg. In our years of wedded bliss, She was born 29 Nov 1895 in Searsboro, Poweshiek Co And I only wish that you were here Iowa and died 29 Jan 1952 in Emmetsburg, Iowa. On your lips to plant a kiss. Some people came between us, love, In the dark and stormy past, But God was watching from above And our love they could not blast. The gold has vanished from your hair And silver takes its place, But there’s no one else that can compare With your dear, familiar face. We’ve strolled beneath the moonlight In pleasant reveries, Now the smell of dew on earth at night Brings back fond memories. The days are dark and dreary With you so far away, But do not worry, dearie, I’ll come back to you some day. The nights are just a nightmare Without you, turtle dove, But if I know you really care I’ll carry on my love. More than thirty years have passed away Since we promised to be true, I hope that I will see the day When I’ll always be with you. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg To Alden I dedicate this message To you, my second son, For you deserve the prestige That you’ve already won. My lad, you’re standing at the foot Alden Floyd Krieg was born 9 July 1924 in Mallard Of the ladder of success, and died in 1997 in Arizona and is buried in Portland, And now this war has come and put Oregon. You to the acid test. But you’ll make good my lad, I know, For you’re not afraid to work. And it doesn’t matter where you go Your job you’ll never shirk. So if you keep on striving To make yourself a name, You won’t be long arriving To wealth and power and fame. If you are drafted in the ranks Before you graduate, You’ll be a credit to the Yanks And also your home State. So no matter where you go, my lad, Be upright, square, and true And you’ll be a credit to you Dad, And folks will honor you. YOUR DAD (Written to Alden while in college in 1943) Tribute To My
Daughter-In-Law I’ve a daughter-in-law The best you have seen For short we will just call her Phyl. This is Phyllis Marie Fisher Krieg, wife of Alden Krieg She’s a good wife indeed She was born 8 Sept. 1926 in Curlew, Palo Alto County, And bound to succeed Iowa and died 8 Mar. 1976 in Portland, Oregon. For she tackles her work with a will. She’s a dandy help-mate With the best she does rate, She is tidy and neat And cooks good things to eat A better mate he could not find. She’s really a pal, this slip of a gal, And sure gets a kick out of life. She’s candid and frank With the best she does rank Makes her husband an excellent wife. She likes to play tricks On her husband she picks They really do have lots of fun. When something goes wrong With a smile or a song, She puts the blues on the run. SO no don’t you see I’m as glad as can be He captured this girl of his choice. For she’s friendly and true, And I’ll never get through Singing praises while I have a voice. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg Ode to Alden Krieg, Jr. I have a little grandson Who’s bonny, blithe and gay. He’s very very handsome And gets cuter every day. Son of Alden Krieg. He has eyes of azure blue And also has red hair. I know that he’ll be fair and true And always on the square. I’ll not be here to praise him Or watch his rise to fame, But I know that they will raise him To be a credit to my name. And now a message to his dad As he grows to be a man --- I’m very fond of this young lad And will help him all I can. There are little eyes upon you, And they’re watching night and day. There are little ears that quickly Take in everything you say. There are little hands all eager To do everything you do. And a little boy who’s dreaming Of the day he’ll be like you. There’s a wide-eyed little fellow Who believes you’re always right, And his eyes are always open And he watches day and night. You are setting an example In each kindness that you do For the little boy who’s waiting To grow up to be like you. And if this point the did attain, It would make me very proud, And I’d be glad he bore my name In any group or crowd. By his Grandfather - Alfred J. Krieg February 29, 1960 Tribute To Joel God brought him here one happy day, He was our pride and joy, Now he has taken him away Our own, our precious boy. We’re going to miss his pleasant smile, His happy childhood ways, God left him with us for awhile, And those were happy days. This sun still shines and still it rains, Though the one we loved has gone, But in our hearts he still remains As time goes marching on. We know where he has gone to stay, He’ll never suffer pain, And hope that on our judgment day That we will meet again. By Grandfather Krieg (Irene ( his mother) gave this to the minister and he made
his sermon around this poem. The songs
she had sung were “I’ll Be A Sunbeam For Jesus” and “Precious Jewels.” Joel Ulrich Krieg died of polio at age 6 1/2.
He was born 17 Jan 1944 and died 13 Oct. 1950. A Tribute To Dorothy Aust There is a lady that I know Who is pleasant true and kind And folks like her, Where err you go You’ll very seldom find. Though she has troubles of her own She’s always spreading cheer She is the darling of her home Folks love her far and near. This lady has five lovely girls A dandy husband too She does their hair in fancy curls And sends them off to school. This lady lives upon a farm Her husband she adores She always goes out to the barn And helps him with the chores A happy family you will find And they all cooperate. For harmony is in their mind And with the best they rate You’ll always find her just the same In cold or storm or frost And if you want to know her name Its Mrs. Dorothy Aust. Composed by Alfred J. Krieg |
