Someone questioned, “Did you really do?

Did all those things happen?  Are they true?”

All!  Yes!  As God is my witness.

How could I ever abide with myself

Or with my God lying to you?



Yes, I really shot a crocodile

By a river in  India’s’ wild!

When Father handed the rifle to me

Sure, I was a only child!



He said, “See if you can hit that log out there,

Out on that river bank,” wide and clear.

Sure, I did hit it!  “It was a crocodile,”

Shocked I was!  Way beyond compare!



Rifle?  Just a 22.  Crocodile sped

Into the river, hurting it fled!

Father died, I was seven or eight,

Cannot recall any, like, woodshed.



Then stateside, but Scout in World War  II

I was waving a hand grenade in  plainest view

Of enemy down there, behind some trees.

Death wish?  Maybe, nothing else to do!



Maybe self-calming influence to slumber,

Of course, enemy had my number!

See him up there in plainest view

We can get him later, first more to do.



We must get grenade he had set

Get whole squad!  Sure, you bet!

An inexplicably stupid thought!

Did not realize what they had bought.



A wide awake enemy, yes, with grenade!

I  heard them, tossed, big boom was made!

Sure, war-time memories do persist,

Why do these trivialities insist?



the Sam  3.21.12

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