Here it is:

THE LAST FOXHOLE
lyrics by Red Sovine

(O Lord, let it be the last foxhole.)

He lived by my side on an island in the sea,
A place called Okinawa(?), and just like me,
He was fighting in the army against imperial Japan.
Our home was a foxhole made of clay blood and sand.

(The last foxhole, oh, the last foxhole, O Lord, let it be the last foxhole.)

Soon the war was over and we went our separate ways.
He went home to Brooklyn but in the army I chose to stay.
Now he often wrote me the letters and told me about his fears:
When his son became a man, would he have to live in another foxhole?

(The last foxhole, oh, the last foxhole, O Lord, let it be the last foxhole.)

Then came Korea and they sent my company,
And that same Brooklyn boy right back with me,
But I left him there in a grave deep and cold.
They just covered him up in his last foxhole.

(The last foxhole, oh, the last foxhole, O Lord, let it be the last foxhole.)

Well, the years went by; now here I am
In another foxhole in VietNam,
And there's a boy from Brooklyn behind a gun.
They couldn't send his daddy so they sent his son.

(The last foxhole, oh, the last foxhole, O Lord, let it be the last foxhole.)