by Cpl. Robert Lin Cook
Jan 1942–Sep 1945

I snapped it to 
my old web belt,
it rode upon my hip
and every little
now and then
I'd take a little nip

I packed it over rough terrain,
I packed it over grass,
I filled from a Lister bag
of water, second-class

I kept it in my foxhole
and there beneath my bunk,
I cared for it as best I could,
It never made me drunk

The last day I saw it
'Twas on that "Bloody Ridge"
when shot and shell
were whizzing
and they had one
just for us.

I reached for it apaining
but it was not afound,
the remnants of its being
were scattered o'er the ground

That old canteen
stood by me
until the bitter end,
I could not 
have ever found,
a better silent friend

*     *     *
The author: Robert Lin Cook served with Reg. Weapons Co. (2d-2d) from 1942–44, at Guadalcanal and Tarawa during a 33-month overseas tour.

>>>  Poetry Page
>>>  Memoir Page
My Old Canteen