My life’s an open book to all,

Have no use for mysteries!

Lived for my father, died my age 8!

Eight years of age, dread disease.



The dreaded disease, smallpox, took him!

Could I ever forget?

Picked up some bad habits from then on

Rage against divine set!



So I set my mind against this God

Without feeling for life!

They told me, “He is alive in Heaven,”

But that did not end my strife!



Now, I am twenty-eight, I am leading patrol

Negros, Philippines Isles,

World War II, of course, get a life,

Dead men, piles on piles!



Suddenly, there is a dead enemy!

Dead too long, fully clothed!

Sure, maggots played tag in his nose!

Well,  that is the way it goes!



Lined up straight along the trail!

Too straight!  Suspicion tugs!

I point, wave forward and almost run!

Well, the smell, no nose plugs!



“Not to worry,” tail-man yells,

Then ping!  He picks some lead!

We do not wait to argue, hurry on!

Right through the helmet, dead!



Of course, we did not tarry, whittled down!

Replacements, yes, often!

He just left to replenish enemies needs!

Naturally no coffin!



(If some of the language sounds offensive,

sorry, but that’s the way it was!)



Sam Cox

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