THE SOLDIER
Anonymous

Between the security of childhood
And the insecurity of second childhood
We find a fascinating group of humans called
Soldiers.

They come in assorted
Sizes,
Weights,
And states of sobriety.

They can be found anywhere –
On ships,
On planes,
In bars,
On leave,
In love,
And always in debt.

Girls love them
Towns tolerate them
No one understands them
And the government supports them.

He has the energy of a turtle,
The slyness of a fox,
The brains of an idiot,
The stories of war,
The sincerity of a liar,
The inspirations of a Casanova,
And when he wants something
It is usually connected with a pass.

Some of his likes are:
Women,
Gin,
Girls,
Bourbon,
Females,
Rum,
Dames,
Tequila,
Broads,
Beer,
The opposite sex,
And anything alcoholic.

His dislikes are:
Answering letters,
Wearing his uniform,
Superior officers and NCOs,
The mess hall,
And getting up in the morning.

No one else can carry all this in one pocket:
A lighter,
A pack of crushed cigarettes,
An ID card,
A comb,
A church key,
A bottle of GI gin,
And what is left of last month's pay.

He likes to spend his money on
Girls,
Booze,
Poker,
And the rest foolishly.

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A soldier is a magic creature.
You can lock him out of your home, but not out of your heart.
You can scratch him off your mailing list, but not out of your mind.
You might as well give up trying to dispose of him,
For you know he is your far from home sweetheart who
Can hardly wait until he is once more called – Mister.

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