Soldier 23

The Lord is my Captain. In boot camp

I shall want any more Indian Runs or Log Carries.

He makes me lie prone in green pastures

for escape-and-evade drills:

He leads me into the still, polar waters

at 0600.

He restores my morale and reloads my mag.

He guides me on the path to our objective

for the mission’s sake.

And though I march into the vale of shadows and certain death

I will fear no ambush, for you are with me Captain.

Your nod and your stare, they comfort me, amid my pleas –

Medic! Mamma! Abba!

You prepare a way for my evac in the presence of enemy artillery.

Now I anoint your headstone with flowers; my heart overflows.

Surely memories and battlescars will haunt me

all the days of my life: and I will soldier on

Captainless for now.

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