by Cpl. Robert L. Cook
Jan. 42~Sept. 45
Officers, to most us
Who in the ranks do serve,
Often are a bloody pain
Who get on all our nerves.
We carry out our orders
That come down from the top.
We often wonder,
"Where in Hell
They get the bloody lot!"
Some things I've had to do
Somewhat flustered me.
But still I did them best I could,
Never questioned if I should.
A soldier, sailor or Marine
Who does his duty well,
May wonder if he should've done
What could send him to Hell.
He cannot question his command,
'Tis not his lot to do.
But carry out his orders
And hope he will not rue.
Our officers are vital
For heading up command.
Without them we'd wander,
Like the shifting sand.
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**About the author: Robert Cook served with Reg. Weapons Co.(2d-2d) from 1942~44, at Guadalcanal & Tarawa, during a 33-month overseas tour.
