| Hereditas Bellatorus Marinus |  |
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Why am I out here, walkin' in the sand?
Headed for Derna,
a rifle in my hand.
March six-hundred miles, to stand outside
the walls,
Our ships are in the harbor, shooting cannon
balls.
Why am I out here, walkin' in the sand?
Why am
I out here, in French Belleau Wood?
Doin' to the Hun, what no
one thought we could.
"You want to live forever?" Sergeant
Daly said,
Then led his Devil Dogs, �cross fields of wheat
and lead.
Why am I out here, in French Belleau Wood?
Why am I on this, "pork chop" of Japan?
Couldn't hardly move
in the black, volcanic sand.
Up on Suribachi, six men raised
a flag,
The stinkin' smell of sulphur, makes me choke and
gag.
Why am I on this, "pork chop" of Japan?
Why am I
here, at a place called Hungnam?
A few short months ago, at
Inchon we did land.
At Chosin Reservoir, I dang near froze to
death,
Chesty says we'll make it, and he ain't been wrong
yet.
Why am I here, at a place called Hungnam?
Why am
I down here, in South Vietnam?
A place on a river curve,
north of old Saigon.
Contraband on oxcarts, scooters and
sampans,
Keep a watch for "Charlie", he'll get you if he can.
Why am I down here, in South Vietnam?
Why am I out here,
walkin' in the sand?
Shamal starts a-blowin', can't even see
your hand.
Sleepin' in the desert, far away from home,
Surrounded by my buddies, so I ain't here alone.
Why am I out
here, walkin' in the sand? | By Ken B. Harper
Copyright 2011
Listed November 6, 2011 |
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