by Cpl. Robert Lin Cook
Jan 1942-Sep 1945

I really think I've had 
my share of mud.
I think before you go
to spill your blood,
the devil and his crew
spreads acres of this goo
just to piss you off
and keep you
fightin' mad.

I can't remember 
any place that
was bone dry.
There were no deserts
that were nigh so 
we slugged it out
with them
through mire
thick or thin
and somehow
made it through all.

Mud just don't get 
there all alone,
it has some help to
soften up that loam
and when the
rain doth fall
don't do any
good to bawl,
'cause your ass is bound
to get soakin' wet.

If you happen to 
have a foxhole dry,
you can thank
the lord above
for showin' you
his love
'cause you're a
very special guy.

Don't count on havin'
nice dry socks
though you packed
a couple of 'em
in your ruck
for the rain has
done its best,
it has leaked 
through to your chest
and those socks
are all soakin' wet.

Some day they say
you'll look back and smile;
you may but
it will take a while.
Ain't nothin' funny,
I must say,
when you spend
the freakin' day
trying to keep your head
above the mire.

Cest la guerre!

                       *     *     *
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.

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More MUD
Okinawa, May 1945
Drying out after a night's rain