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A little poem I wrote as a young Infantry officer long ago and far away.


LITTLE WARS
By Ross Asher

You men who fought at cold Bastogne or crawled up Pork Chop Hill,
Who saw the guns ablaze at night and who can see them still,
You men who fought in battles large and carry bloody scars,
Do not look down on me because I’ve fought but little wars.

I’ve never seen a corps on line nor heard the thund’rous roar
As regiments of mighty guns sent men to Heaven’s door.
I’ve never known a thousand men to die in but one day,
Nor watched a mighty mountaintop as it was blown away.

But I have led a six man team through paddies in the night,
And I have seen their flare lit eyes as they plunged toward the fight.
And I have seen a bloody mass that used to be a limb,
And of its owner thought in vain, “What’s to become of him?”

Look down upon me not, my friends, your fame I’ll never know,
E’en though I’ve fought through summer rains and shivered in the snow.
No glory e’er shall come to us who went away so far
And did our duty quietly and fought in little wars.

Copyright Ross Asher, 2017, All Rights Reserved

242 years!

HOOAH!

Go sign the Army Birthday card!

https://action.uso.org/1705_AB?sc=WS17A ... WS17ARMB11

I'll add my favorite, best narrated by Jocko Willink:

WE’RE foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa!
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an’-twenty mile to-day—
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before—
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!

Don’t—don’t—don’t—don’t—look at what’s in front of you.
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)
Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin’ ’em,
And there’s no discharge in the war!

Try—try—try—try—to think o’ something different—
Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin’ lunatic!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!

Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.
If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o’ you
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war!

We—can—stick—out—’unger, thirst, an’ weariness,
But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of ’em—
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again!
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

’Tain’t—so—bad—by—day because o’ company,
But—night—brings—long—strings—o’ forty thousand million
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again.
There’s no discharge in the war!

I—’ave—marched—six—weeks in ’Ell an’ certify
It—is—not—fire—devils—dark or anything,
But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up an’ down again,
An’ there’s no discharge in the war!

Since we are into poetry, here is and excerpt from one of my favorites by Rudyard Kipling, "Soldier an' Sailor Too".

To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with firing all about,
Is nothing so bad when you've cover to 'and, an' leave an' likin' to shout;
But to stand an' be still to the Birken'ead drill is a damn tough bullet to chew,
An' they done it, the Jollies -- 'Er Majesty's Jollies -- soldier an' sailor too!
Their work was done when it 'adn't begun; they was younger nor me an' you;
Their choice it was plain between drownin' in 'eaps an' bein' mopped by the screw,
So they stood an' was still to the Birken'ead drill, soldier an' sailor too!

To me, Rudyard is saying that it is easier to obey an order to run into a fight than it is to obey an order to stand still and die when that is what is required. But that is what we do.

The Birkenhead drill http://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Wo ... ren-First/
"Lieutenant-Colonel Seton, the soldier's commanding officer, quickly recognised that such a rush would mean that the lifeboats could be swamped and the lives of the women and children onboard would thus be endangered. He drew his sword and ordered his men to stand fast. The untried soldiers did not move even as the ship split in two and the gallant company slipped down into the waves."