(Lt. Dean Shatlin)
What did you do, civilian friend,
From morning until night?
How many times did you moan and groan,
That your paycheck was too light?
When are you going to do, my friend,
Those things for us you say?
A soldier would like to know, my friend,
What did you do today?
We faced the enemy troops, my friend,
And took a town by storm;
Interesting reading, no doubt will make,
While at ease, in your home so warm.
You will note with satisfaction,
A brief communiqué,
Of this war that we are fighting?
But what did you do today?
My gunner died in my arms today,
I feel his warm blood yet;
Your neighbor’s dying boy gave out,
A scream I can’t forget.
To my right, one of our tanks was hit,
A flash, and then a fire;
And yet the stench of burning flesh,
Still raises from that pyre.
What did you do today, my friend,
To help us with this task?
Did you work hard and long for us,
Or is that too much to ask?
What right have I to ask you this,
You probably will say;
But maybe now you’ll understand,
You see, I died today
* Lt. Shatlin was a tank commander in the Army in West Africa. His tank was destroyed He had to crawl to a nearby foxhole and amputate his own foot with a knife. He was found bleeding and unconscious by soldiers, and would certainly have died if not attended to in time.
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