by Cpl. Robert L. Cook
Jan. 42~Sept. 45
I was sittin' on my tank,
In jungle green, dark and dank.
Awonderin' what folks back home
Were doin' while I did roam.
I heard they all had it bad,
A workin' hard and feelin' sad
About their boys so far from home
Across the wide Pacific's foam.
It occurred to me that they all cared
And most of them were downright scared
Of getting news they dare not read
For fear it would make hearts bleed.
I thought of fathers and mothers
And brothers young and eager
To help us win this bloody war,
They thought their efforts meager.
But we out here appreciate
They cannot all be with us.
Their work is needful to the war
It helps us do what we're here for,
We cannot do without them.
So I for one praise their grit
Though different from our own.
They watch, wait, work and pray,
And face alone another day
That may bring home news that they
Have made a difference to the fray
That we all face together.
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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.
