The Last Patrol

May 27, 2008
By John Mertes, Edina, MN

The dark night was silent
The pale moon still
On marched the last patrol
On the torn lonely hill

New black boots
Crushing the foreign ground
To Uncle Sam
We all were bound

Every day we lived
Was worse then before
Death drew closer
Pounding down the door

Now in hell
we all do reside
there was no place
for anyone to hide

On through the forest
Our death march carried on
Over the blood stained jungle
From dusk ‘till dawn

Then from our backs
Swift the enemy came
Cutting down life
With unwavering aim

No way to escape
No salvation in sight
“Hold the line!”
And die with a fight

My friends lie near
Knowing death is here
Facing it straight on
There is no illusion of fear

Rolling out of cover
With a cold glare in my eye
I unloaded all my rounds
Igniting the jungle sky

The dark night was silent
The pale moon still
And the last patrol had fallen
On the torn lonely hill

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