He was suppose to play
sax in the band, nothing
fortified him to be an
infantry platoon leader
Nothing prepared him for
the freezing temperatures
of a Korean winter
He was no hero, no braver
than any other soldier, they
were all afraid, just following
orders from Washington
They marched cautiously
into a quiet village, as night
fell like a guillotine
The only building left standing
was a church, they removed
their helmets and prayed for peace
A whistling sound could be
heard in the silent air, it was
the last they would hear
The high explosive shell killed
them all, it came from an American
ship anchored in a nearby harbor
The medics wrapped what was
left of their bodies and collected
their dog tags for the ones they’d
left back in their own world.