by James Stockton
A hundred Marines sat on the line,
rapid fire, and all was fine.
The rifles cracked, bull's eyes, we know;
down came the targets, now they'll show.
White spotters adorned targets left and right,
looked like snow, a pretty sight.
But wait! What's that where I shot?
Not a single one! . . . not one white spot.
I look for black ones 'round the "bull,"
no luck there either, I feel a chill.
They start the disks, white for bulls,
none for mine . . . there they were still.
A single pole rose o'er the butts
waved back and forth, like in a rut.
A red flag waving, a miss of course,
and that red flag is "Maggie's Drawers."
Suddenly a commotion is heard on line,
I thought, "My coach, and it's my time."
But a good-lookin' dame comes down the track:
"My name is Maggie — and I wants 'em back."
* * *
The author: James Stockton was a gunner with C Co., 5thTkBn, 5thMarDiv on Iwo Jima Feb-Mar 1945, as well as other posts throughout the Corps during a 20-year stint.