| Marching through the snow and mountains, survival and killing is all you know, you've killed many men, even stabbed some face to face, with your bayonet, I respect you, you are my blood. Everything you've told me has been worth your breath. Corporal killer, machine gun you used that fired quicker. M1's slow but accurate, a man who did his best, a man who made it back, a man that lost an ear drum to a mine, and a man who lost a friend to the same mine. A man who has seen men slaughtered, a man who has wittnessed war first hand, a man who couldn't do anything but make sure he made it. Hard work was your life, then death was it, now its just reflecting on all the things you did. Iv heard it all before, but I know there is more, you won't really get into the real gruesome details, because deep inside, it must be Hell. But I bet those whores were worth the memory and the risk of becoming cannon fodder, and just another dead man, who's soul would wander. You are more of a man then I could ever be, I'm proud of the fact I'm named from you. Murdering man of the old days, man of pride and man of hard work, a man who could do much more than throw a grenade into a hut, I bet those Koreans and chinese lost their nuts when they saw what you had done, a man who wouldn't back down, a man who would never run, some one with brave intentions, drafted after married, I bet you loved the fact you kicked some ass. What a life you have led, a real man with pride and power in memory and action. A man who built something from nothing, fear wasn't an option, and orders were tough, but I know everything you didn't wasn't enough. You saw men die in training, you kept it together, after all your work, you couldn't be broke, and hell, you got your vengence, I bet it was one great berate to boot your sgt's face! |
