Check this one out.

Mark Ross


TROOPERS LAMENT
Bruce Phillips

I sailed from Seattle far away from friends and home,
Far across the blue Pacific to the Land of Morning Calm,
"Here's your helmet and your rifle and your prophylactics too,
And as sure as I'm your captain we will make a man of you."

The 105's were pounding and their thunder shook the night,
I asked my bold commander, "Who am I here to fight?",
"It's the slopes, and the slants, and the gooks and chinks," said he,
And I wondered if their captain ever said the same of me.

I have seen the mountain winter where the air was cold and still,
But, oh, that frozen Chosen it was a living hell,
With the fever, and the jaundice, and a hundred kinds of mold,
We were slaughtered in our mummy bags by bayonets and cold.

And everywhere I traveled from the gap at Kummaree,
The Yungsan Reservation and the camps at Moonsonee,
The frozen plains at Inchon my boots rotting on my feet,
All I heard were starving babies while their mothers walked the street.

We bought cameras, we bought watches, we bought whores and we bought booze,
With the little barefoot beggars bending down to shine our shoes,
We gave them back their candy and to answer our desire,
We gave them round-eyed babies who died outside the wire.

I got off in Seattle and I climbed on board a train,
I rode it through the mountains with a fever in my brain,
I could find no reason to remain here anymore,
There was not trace around me of the life I'd lived before.

Now what's the pride in country if it robs a man of will,
And where's the pride in manhood if a man will rape and kill,
And what's the pride in killing if the dead will rise again,
Ah, but there's a pride in knowing there's and enemy within.

So listen all you troopers, here's a lesson you should know,
From an older brown-shoe soldier who marched off long ago,
They will use your pride and passion for to settle all their fights,
Keep your pride in your trousers and the captain in your sights.