OUR SOLDIER IN IRAQ

Just a lad barely out of his teens
His friends at the mall remember him well
His army fatigues have replaced his jeans
Instead of CD's, he hears an incoming shell.
Perhaps his motive when he volunteered
Was to move beyond what he learned at school
With little regard for the things men feared
He soon learned a soldier must live by the rule.

Not so long ago, he was riding a bike
And working hard at his skateboard skill
He thinks of this as he tackles his hike
And dreads the day he may have to kill.
He sorely misses his Mom's great food
And tries to digest his military fare
He catches a few winks if he's in the mood
When things slow down and he has time to spare.

That beardless boy has become a man
His muscles are hard, his skin is tough
With all of his buddies, he breathes the sand
He's determined to stay no matter how rough.
Iraq was a word he'd seen in a book
Politics and government didn't mean too much
But now as the desert sun is beginning to cook
He'd give a month's salary for his sweetheart's touch.

He's earned the rank as a trained GI
With a legacy of warriors who've gone before
He's helplessly watched a good friend die
And gritted his teeth at the bomb's loud roar.
He little knows what lies ahead
But with a hero's heart he'll stand his ground
He'll dig in the sand and make his bed
And dream of the day when he's homeward bound.

He faces a foe who has little regard
For women or children or even his men
He's heard of the fearsome republican guard
With their blind allegiance who'll fight to the end.
His zeal as a fighter with his life on the line
He'll accept no substitute for victory
With his band of brothers, he's determined to shine
And make this dictator a thought in history.

Each day he hopes for a letter from home
An assuring word from the ones he loves
Separated by the wide ocean's white foam
Yet as close as tight fitting gloves.
He cherishes the prayers so faithfully spoken
And looks to God for His Divine care
He knows that His promise will never be broken
That His love and blessing we all can share.

©Copyright March 30, 2003 by Jack D. Harris