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Marine Corps Poetry: A Hopeful Holiday Christmas

(Cpl Cook forgot the females)

Holidays are coming near
And our lads are over there
And we at home miss them much
And try to stay in close touch

Though absence make the heart
Grow fonder
‘Rather have them here
Than yonder.

We remember the growing years
The times we kissed away their tears
And patched up a skinned knee
The day he fell out of the tree

We cannot help but shed a tear
And put away the nagging fear
That greets us on each morn
That lingers in a heart that’s torn.

So let us all give thanks in prayer
With hope that they return from there
Before the year has turned around
That they are again on home ground.

Semper Fi and Amen!

Cpl. Robert L. Cook

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Marine Corps Poems: The Forgotten Fighter

Marines can do stuff besides killing people and breaking things.
When they take a break from that, they write some damn fine poetry.
In this piece, the author writes about Marines in wartime.

In World War II,” he whispered,
I was wounded by a blast.
As he began his story,
reminiscing of his past.

I was just a boy back then,
I lied about my age.
To get into the Marines
and fight for the USA.

I love this country very much,
it’s still the very best.
And I would fight to keep it free,
and safe from foreign pests.

We won that war and I came home,
my wounds had healed enough.
To re-enlist with other men.
The Marines made us tough.

Then a little flare-up
in Korea called us out.
A threat against our freedom,
spreading fear without a doubt.

There I caught a bullet
when I tried to save a friend.
Another wound for Uncle Sam,
they sent me home to mend.

Marine, have you had enough?
my Gunny said to me.
Or, do you want another tour,
if ever there’s to be.

We would train and fight again,
if ever it need be,
Because we love America,
we’ll fight to keep it free.

It didn’t take too long,
before my boys were off again.
We were shipped off to a war,
we thought would never end.

I didn’t understand it much,
whether it was wrong or right.
But I was a U.S. Marine,
and my country said: ‘Go fight’.

I never questioned orders
that were sent from up above.
I did it for America,
the country that I love.

I fought to keep my country safe
again in Vietnam.
Then, wounded I came home,
a victim of napalm.

My fighting days were over now,
and I had given all.
But, some had given more than me,
their names are on The Wall.

I’m now well up in years,
a Marine old and worn.
I could only sit and pray
as I watched Desert Storm.

So proud of our boys over there,
who stand for what is right.
freedom is the battle cry,
the reason why they fight.

Young Marines fight for liberty,
protecting freedom’s bliss.
Old Marines dream of bygone days,
while fighting loneliness.

We were heroes in our day,
he said, and then he sighed.
forgotten in some V.A. home,
and all my friends have died.

I never asked for anything,
just wanted to live free.
But, if you write this story,
there are many just like me.

Who fought to keep our country
safe and free from every enemy.
Only to come home again
and have no place to go.

Sadly, when the limelight fails
heroes fade away.
Some men fight the silent battles
till their dying day.

Please remember what it took,
and what we had to pay.
And join with us remembering
on this Memorial Day.

That day is special;
it’s not just summer’s start.
The reason that we have this day
should be etched on your heart.

Lives were lost and young men died
to keep this country free.
So take a moment on that day
to meditate with me.

Remember all those valiant men
and women who fought for
the lifestyle that you now enjoy,
because they went to war.”

Author unknown

USMC Poems: Time to Report

The old Marine lay on his bed,
Thinking of what’s to come without dread:
My life has been a long and busy one,
Thought it was over when I fought the Hun.

I still can see that no-man’s land,
So many times across it I ran.
The cannons roared and the earth shook like jelly,
Rifles barked, grenades popped, machineguns ripped.

Through this fight we served the Corps,
Through no-mans-land I’ll run never more.
My buddies died on my right and left sides,
The mustard gas got those who were still alive.

The “war to end wars,” they told us at home,
So off we go, they can’t fight alone.
The mud, the rain, the stink of death,
Things to remember for those who are left.

Through the wheat field and on we charged,
Into the Machine guns death chatter.
The field was covered with the dead,
When Marines charge we do not scatter.

On that day we earned a new name,
Of our fighting ways we are never tamed.
I’d give it all back to hear roll call,
And they answered to their names.

In the history books for all to read,
You’ll find tales of Marine deeds.
But on this bed so many years passed,
Lies a Marine who lived that tale of guts and glory.

The room comes bright as he lay there,
A smile now on his face.
A shaky hand gives a salute,
As his voice sounds with pride:

“Another Marine reporting, Sir,
I’ve served my country; now it’s time to die.”
Slowly, as it settles at his side,
The fierce look of pride fades from his eyes.

All alone in a darkened room,
Another Marine passes from the world, unnoticed.
To take his place in ranks of the Lord’s finest.

Nihil D. Benuche

Clouds Of War

The clouds of war
gather nigh
along the far horizon.
Men and women are called
and standing by,
to tend the
nation’s fervent cry
to rail against
a roguish

Chances are
the call will come
and we will hear
the muffled drum
that sends Marines
on their way
to once again
stand to the fray
before the enemy’s guns.

We will all go forth again
to right a wrong left undone
for far too long.
For we who stand
for the right
will pursue the beast
with all our might.
and bring him down
so all will have
And we will once again
stand down at peace
once more.

Oh Lord,
if I may pray,
take care to see
that troops so brave
who face the
fire of blood and steel
are safely brought
from sodden field
to walk the land
in freedom bought
with pain,
to stand
before a grateful nation.


Robert L. Cook

Marine Corps Poetry: A Different Breed

Ain’t no doubt about it,
We are a different breed:
We’ve fought our country’s battles
When ‘ere there was a need.

We fought with pike and musket
Thru shot and thru shell.
When it come to combat,
We do it very well.

We cleaned out the pirates
Of far off Tripoli
And the Halls of Montezuma
Is part of history.

They call upon us every time
There is trouble in the wind
And here we come a runnin’,
Every kith and kin.

I guess it always will be
The calling of the Corps
To stand up for the country
Just as in days of yore.

So, muster up, you gyrenes!
It ain’t over yet
But when we bring you home
T’will be with no regrets.

Robert L. Cook

Marine Corps Christmas Poem: A Hopeful Holiday Christmas

Holidays are coming near
And our lads are over there
And we at home miss them much
And try to stay in close touch

Though absence make the heart
Grow fonder
‘Rather have them here
Than yonder.

We remember the growing years
The times we kissed away their tears
And patched up a skinned knee
The day he fell out of the tree

We cannot help but shed a tear
And put away the nagging fear
That greets us on each morn
That lingers in a heart that’s torn.

So let us all give thanks in prayer
With hope that they return from there
Before the year has turned around
That they are again on home ground.

Semper Fi and Amen!

Cpl. Robert L. Cook

Marine Pride

The morning silence explodes in a roar
As ship after ship sends shells slamming into the shore.
Up on decks in rank after rank they stand in silence, waiting.
The word yet to come.

The Gunny roars out, “Saddle up! Stand by!”
It’s over the side and down the rope ladder, on the rising tide.
Four abreast its over the side, down the rope for a Higgins Boat ride.
As each boat fills and moves, another appears to take Marines for a ride.

Out in the water, ’round and ’round they circle,
“Now keep your head down!”
Boat after boat till they’re all there.
The Marines are ready; the run to the beach is near.

The ships still fire round after round.
Good Lord almighty! Is anyone still alive on the ground?
Out of the heavens in screaming dives,
Planes drop their bombs, taking still more lives.

In sweeping turns, they wash the beach clear
For fellow Marines so dear.
The flag goes up, the boats move forward,
Lining abreast like an old Calvary charge.

Gunning their engines to hold the line.
Some Marines peer over the side to see
This island we’re taking . . . just so wide.
God! Its dirty and dark with a mountain on the side.

For this piece of dirt were taking this ride?
“Knock it off! Get down, if ya wanna stay alive!”
Closer and closer the boats on line
Head for the beach and a place in time.

“Incoming!” yells the Gunny this time.
Keep your heads down; we’ll ride with the whine!”
Up onto the beach the Higgins Boats climb,
Dropping their ramps amid the incoming whine.

Out over the ramp the pride of the Corps
Roars in unison, “This island is mine forevermore!”
The bullets and shells find there marks.
Blood makes the black sand blacker.

Whole units are wiped from the roll call of men,
All that remains is the pride within.
For days on end they fight and die,
There is not a Marine who from death is shy.

Shot down once, twice, three times or more,
Onto and up this bloody beach they did pour.
Up that mountain they climbed,
Into the history books and forever in time.

Out over the land a Marine could see,
Dark dirty beaches and a bloody sea.
Through the horror of it all some did live to pay respects,
To those that fell on that dark dirty beach and bloody sea.

Here as in many other lands
The pride of the Marines made their stand.
The history books can tell you the feat of these men.
But listen close, brothers and sisters—to the pride within.

Nihil D. Benuche

A Long, Long Trail

My ol’ foot steps grow dimmer
But they go a long way back,
I’ve tread on shores
And beaches
When they said “Attack!”
So all you young Marines
Who follow my in my wake,
Keep faith in your Corps
For good Marines it makes.

I have a lot of faith in you,
I see the things
That you do.
You bring out
All the pride I feel
In being a Marine
Like you.

My days have come
And they have gone,
I leave you here
To carry on.
To keep the banner
Of our Corps
Forever waving
Shore to shore.

Pick up your brass
And move along,
You’ve more to do
So carry on.
The flame of Freedom
Is yours to Fan,
Keep it burning
For every man.

Robert L. Cook

Ode to Corpsmen

Corpsman up!” was the call,
Loud and clear to be heard by all.
Up jumps a kid barely of age
Carrying his pack of medical aid.

Across the field running fast,
A zig, a zag, for death forever lasts.
Drops to his knees by the Marine’s side,
Checking the wounds, the worse first to be worked.

Doc tells the young Marine in a soft gentle voice,
“You’re doing fine. You’ll be OK!
It’s a going-home hit—your lucky day.
Hang in there, Marine the chopper’s on its way.”

Was it the truth or just a lie?
A corpsman has no time to worry or cry,
It’s keeping this Marine alive that’s his job.
Working as fast as the Lord allows
To keep another Marine from drifting into the clouds.

“Corpsman! Corpsman!” another cry.
With a quick hitch of the knot to stop the bleeding.
Up to his feet, off he’s running,
Another Marine in need,
This corpsman is coming.

From Marine to Marine this corpsman does go,
In the hot sun, the rain, or the snow.
When the cry goes out he never fails to respond.
He’s a Navy corpsman who serves with great pride
Saving Navy and Marine lives.

Wherever he goes he walks with great pride
Be it Heaven or Hell, he takes it all in stride.
He’s a corpsman who served with the Marines.
What more can you ask
Of this lean, mean, life-saving machine?

Nihil D. Benuche

Come Walk With Me

Come walk with me
that we may speak
of places we have been,
of islands hot,
of mountains cold,
of plains and valleys
that unfold
As we remember them.

Of the time when
we were young and green,
and not much
of the world had seen.
when we were awed
by tropic scenes
nd by mountains high,
and valleys green.

By oceans wide
and oceans deep,
that we had crossed
to challenge men
who stood in ranks
with gun and tank
and said to us,
who came to fight,
that we would die
before the night
was nigh.

It mattered not
what was said,
we were Marines
who had bled,
on foreign soil
for a cause
that was not always
all our own.

So let us part
with this in mind:
we are warriors
for all mankind
who on this planet
do abide,
and are a foe
to those who
kill and torture.

Let those who
stand before us know,
we have no mercy
on the foe,
and will not stay
our hot pursuit
until the day is won.

China Marines

You young’uns won’t remember,
‘Twas a long, long time ago
Before the time of Pearl,
Guadalcanal or Tarawa
Or places that we know.

Before the war broke out, you see,
We had men overseas.
At places where we were needed,
A Marine had to be.

The vastness of that country
Was greater than we knew.
The people were so different,
Much more than me from you.

Our enemy was there in force
It was their first foray.
They killed and pillaged,
Robbed and raped
As we stood watching
Out the gate.

It troubled all the garrison
That we could not rush in,
We were not allowed
To fight that crowd,
As we anticipated.
They told us
Just to stand our ground,
So we just stood and waited.

They pulled us out
Of that dire place
Just before they bombed the Harbor.
They set us down
Not far from town
In a place called Manila.

The Fourth Brigade,
With Marine pride,
Fought the fight
In the Philippines.
They stood their ground,
And earned the crown of
Old China Marines.

Robert L. Cook

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