by Cpl. Robert L. Cook
Jan. 42~Sept. 45
The darkest dark that I have seen
Was when I was a young Marine.
I stood those guards in jungles dark,
I tell you, man, it was no lark.
You hold your hand before your face,
Its outline you can barely trace.
A little noise here and there,
You think the foe is everywhere.
The time goes by in dragging steps
— Forever is a minute.
You hope-to-Christ that your relief
Is there before you've spent it.
It doesn't matter if you've done
A hundred watches or just one.
The time you spend in jungles green
As soldier, sailor or Marine,
You'll never find another space
As dark as that foreboding place.
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About the author: Robert Cook served with Reg. Weapons Co.(2d-2d) from 1942~44, at Guadalcanal and Tarawa, during a 33-month overseas tour.
