"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

27 February 2022

Glory.


LET ME TELL YOU HOW I DIED – IWO JIMA

It’s a small spit of land in the ocean so blue
But we must have it, it’s what we’ve come to do
We crawl ashore at this isolated place
And the tropical sun burns hot on our face

The sand is black, crafted in hell
The whole place is covered with a terrible smell
The enemy hides out in caves underground
It’s impossible to see them sneaking around

They hit us with guns, with artillery, and fire
Still, we blast up the hillside, we won’t retire
Men fall around me, blown all apart
We must reach the top, we must not lose heart!

Suddenly, I see something through the hellish smoke
Something I know, my passion invoked
There it is! Old Glory, waving on a flag pole
At the top of Suribachi, we’ve done it! Our goal!

But that glorious flag is the last thing I will see
Because it was then that the grenade with my name found me
Blasted me to pieces, I’m lost in the heat
Carry on Marines, for we do not retreat.

M.B. Henry


Lest we forget.

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