Happy birthday, Marines

 Happy Birthday, Marines

The below poem was writyten some years ago by my oldest MC friend. ~Bob

A Damned Marine

by Ronald G. Pittenger, ©1979

It takes a special crazy to be a damned Marine.

He might be short, might be tall, he might be large or lean.

“He” might even be your sister. Marine Corps wants the best

And “takes‘em as they gets‘em” in a suit or in a dress

And they turn’em into Jarheads, just like precision tools

And spends their blood like water to pay your bill with jewels.

And even those who hate it and can’t wait till they get out

Remember each November tenth what it was all about.

It takes a special crazy to be a damned Marine;

It takes a special person to wear the cammy green.

It even helps a little if he’s dirty and profane

When butcher bills need paying (though the payment be in vain).

Wars aren’t won on battlefields, nor just by warrior’s skill,

And every night the evening news destroyed the nation’s will.

Although they won the battlefield and never rued the cost,

When they came home expecting cheers, they found that they had lost.

It takes a special crazy to be a damned Marine.

To “fight for right and freedom” and “keep our honor clean.”

For those who wore that uniform, though eyes with age may dim,

If they can stand—even with help—they’ll do so for the Hymn.

For they remember loyalty, they still mean Semper Fi—

And they will go on doing so until the day they die,

And when the bugle calls and sounds “ASSEMBLY” (as it must)

Their spirits still will answer, though their bones have turned to dust.

And one of mine.

The Honor of Our Corps

When the beer, it flows like water,

And the talk, it turns to war,

Then we speak of absent comrades

And the Honor of our Corps.

Of the fights in distant places

And the friends who are no more,

Dying faithful to the nation

And the Honor of our Corps.

Though our bones are growing brittle

And our eyes are growing poor,

Still our hearts are young and valiant

For the Honor of our Corps.

Should the Eagle, Globe and Anchor

Call us to the field once more,

We would muster at the summons

For the Honor of our Corps.

When the years have told our story

And we close the final door,

We will pass to you for keeping

Bright the Honor of our Corps.

Will you take the awesome burden?

Will you face the fire of war?

Will you proudly bear the title

For the Honor of our Corps?

--Former SSgt Robert A. Hall

Published in Leatherneck