by Cpl. Robert L. Cook
Jan. 42~Sept. 45
He was just a lad
When he signed up for the Corps.
They sent him out to 'Diego
To do his boot camp tour.
He landed in Platoon 38
He stood about six foot
And was no pretty-boy.
His coutenance
Was rugged
Yet pleasant to see.
His leadership was
Evident
And all could plainly see
He was a take-charge
Kind of guy,
And they let him be.
So they made him "Guide On"
The first day they
Did troop and drill.
He had his buddies'
Whole respect,
They bore him
No ill will.
He was not
A show off,
No one could
Say or tell.
With his boot camp over
He was assigned to
Company "D" —
A rugged fighting
Outfit,
As anyone could see.
"Dog Company"
In the old days
Were machine-gunners,
Bar none.
They tromped the hills and valleys
From dawn to setting sun.
Their bodies were tempered
Like the steel
In every gun.
Within the ranks
He soon made Corporal
And he fitted well.
As a leader of a squad,
He kept his men
In line.
And with his assistance
He made those
Gunners fine!
When he made Sergeant
It was time to board ship.
They had their orders
And were ready to skip,
Eager to be
About the task
That they had signed on for.
T'was early in the month of June
When they took their place
Aboard.
They settled in
To ship's routine
Of sweeping decks and
Reading magazines.
They did a lot of landings
Along the lower coast.
They got the hang of
Climbing nets
And charging to the shore.
Of setting up a
Field of fire
And cleaning sand
From bores.
Then they would
Scurry back
Aboard
And do the same
Damn thing again!
