Whole platoon was dug in deep

With no spot left for me!

Except this root above the trail

Against this old oak tree!

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.

Below was an opening

Between dense brush and trees!

Path, I would be a sitting duck,

Of course prayed, “God help me, Please!”

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.

Our artillery, one-50’s came,

Like, flip-flapping above! (*)

To crash into the underbrush!

The caves, one sound I loved!

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Pinpointed they had mastered well

Art of zeroing in!

Blasts came think and heavy,

With the sound right deafening!

.

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I felt hot on my leg!

Flipped but would not move!

Shell fragment size of my curved hand!

Like, forming a groove!

.

.

Showed it then to squad leader

He whistled, it fell free!

Had to bounce of something then

I looked up to that tree!

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Al’s rifle was like leaning there

Fixed-bayonet just leaned,

Just inches above my head the

Bone handle cracked, it seemed!

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I showed it again to buddy Al

He just whistled, “Oh well!”

“Yeah,” I said, “This is getting old!

May just send some to Hell!”

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I found thin wire and then went

Downhill to the trail!

Stared left where the bombs had dropped,

This scheme had better prevail!

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I felt eyes watching, quite obvious!

I faced them with the grenade.

Hoping they were watching

While I fixed it, no shade!

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Carefully I straightened the pin,

Then once wired in place,

I glared down that hill and went back up,

Thankful I still had a face!

.

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Darkness came fast, I heard my friend snore.

Then something else on that trail,

Enemy after that hand grenade, fixed other,

Flipped handle and let it sail!

.

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Sparks flying from grenade, woke Al,

“Get rid…!”  He stammered, “I did!”

Sailed through a spot of light above

Double explosion the bid!

.

.

Another sound indistinctly came from

The wounded foe!

Then real yelling from the cave down there

It was all I needed to know!

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(*) Sound they made overhead.

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Sam Cox  02.24.09