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Garand Poem

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    Garand Poem

    Do you wonder why that rifle
    Is hanging in my den?
    You know I rarely take it down
    But I touch it now and then.

    It’s rather slow and heavy
    By standards of today
    But not too many years ago
    It swept the rest away.

    It’s held its own in battles
    Through snow, or rain, or sun
    And I had one just like it,
    This treasured, old M1.

    It went ashore at Bougainville
    In Nineteen Forty-Three.
    It stormed the beach at Tarawa
    Through a bullet-riddled sea.

    Saipan knew its strident bark,
    Kwajalein, its sting.
    The rocky caves of Peleliu
    Resounded with its ring.

    It climbed the hill on Iwo
    With men who wouldn’t stop
    And left our nation’s banner
    Flying on the top.

    It poked its nose in Pusan,
    Screamed an angry roar
    And took the First Division
    From Chosin Reservoir.

    Well, time moves on
    And things improve
    With rifles and with men,
    And that is why the two of us
    Are sitting in my den.

    But sometimes on a winter night,
    While thinking of my Corps,
    I know that if the bugle blew
    We’d be a team once more.

    -author unknown-
    Last edited by TJT; 09-16-2017, 02:08 AM.