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Marine Corps Poems: I Am A Marine Veteran

I am a Marine veteran
Of World War ll,
I stand among the many
And yet among the few.
Our numbers grow smaller
As time thins out the ranks,
We were the ones who
Charged the beaches,
The ones who drove the tanks.
We drove the dreaded enemy
From isle to bloody isle
And kept the honor
Of the Corps
In the Marine style.

We never shirked our duty
We seldom shrank in fear
We kept the motion forward
We made the winning dear.
We left the war behind us
We built a new world here
We ask for little in return,
A word of kind respect.
Just let us know you
Hold us in esteem
Of that we can expect.

Robert L. Cook

Marine Corps Poetry: Fly Boys

It’s hard to keep your cool
when at 15,000 feet
and your guns are
not as they should be,
when the enemy
has a bead and
you have a need
to get the hell
out of the sky.

You can twist and turn,
do all you’ve learned
and the bastard
seems to never
let you fly
but you got one
up your sleeve,
one that you need
if your guns will
just reply.

It has a German name
and a lot of fame
and it stood well
for the guys
who flew a
Spad or two
back in days of yore.

So you pull the stick back,
head for the stars and
your engine is doing its best
when you reach the top
of your climb,
do a wing over
on a dime
and you’re ready
for your dive
upon the foe.

The boys on the ground
are looking all around
and cheering
what they see
for the F4U
is a part of what they do,
when it comes to duty
they are bound.

Fly boys are a different set
and you can even bet
they got much moxie
in their brain for
every nut and bolt
from every book
that’s wrote
they’ve read and
had the stuff explained.

For every man that flies
there are a dozen guys
who are checking
every nut and bolt,
if something goes amiss
they’re subject to remiss
and given much to do.

So raise high your glass
in a salute to the sky
and the Marines
who kept them flying.


Robert L. Cook

Marine Corps Motivational

He’s Home Again

They sent him home
In a metal box,
Sealed so none
Could see
What happens to
A good Marine
When a rocket hits
His Humvee.

He was just
A very young lad,
A Marine
He wanted to be
So he dropped
His graduation
And signed away
His liberty.

He made it through
His boot camp,
He shot expert
On the range,
He couldn’t wait
To do his best.
His demeanor
Was not strange.

He was now
A strong Marine
And wished to ply his trade,
The Corps was glad
To help him,
He thought he had it made.

They shipped him off
To do his thing
With a company to help,
It didn’t take him long
To know,
And to find himself.

He was on
His first patrol
When heaven
Called him home.
He never felt
The fear,
He never felt
He died a quick
And painless
A Marine unto
The end.

Marines are not all heroes,
Most are ordinary guys
Who go forth
To do their jobs
And do it all with pride.
They never shirk their duty,
Such shame would never do,
They carry forth
Their banners
And the red, the white
and the blue.

Robert L. Cook

For The Good Of The Corps

The Corps was always good to me,
I served it fairly well.
But whether I was good for it,
I really cannot tell.

I slogged and jogged,
Toted and packed,
I dragged and I did carry.
I fought and fired,
In heat and mire,
In situations scary.

Then they finished up the war,
Said they needed me no more.
The reason kind of made me sore,
‘Twas, “For the Good of the Corps.”

Robert L. Cook


Way back yonder in forty one,
When the big war had just begun,
And I was just dry of ear.
I left home
Without a tear,
Signed up for the
“Fightin’ Marines,”
Thought I would
Have some fun.
My big adventure
Had begun.

Well, they shipped me
Off to ‘Diego, where
I passed the test
That they had there.
And told me
I was a tough Marine,
One of the best
They’d ever seen.
I really felt
That I was mean,
And ready to pick
The enemy clean.

Well, it didn’t take long
To prove to me
That they were
Very wrong.
They put me where
I did not belong,
Out in front
Where the bullets flew,
And you knew
Each one was
Meant for you.

I never was
So close to ground,
When things were flyin’
All around.
I didn’t have much choice,
You see,
It was either them
Or me.
And I had things to do
Back home.

So, I hunkered down
As best I could,
Stood my ground
As I should.
And later on,
Beyond the fight,
I found out I had
Done it right.
I had killed off
Quite a few,
I thought it was the
Thing to do.
I just shot at
Those I’d seen
That warn’t wearin’
Marine green.

Well, we fought
Our way across
The sea,
To islands
That were tough,
You see.
And finally got
The best of them
And left them
Saying, “Never again!”
For there were
Many just like me,
Who gave them the
“Best that we could be.”

I wish that
I could truly say
That the world
Is safe today
Because of men
Like me and thee
Who fought for
Sweet liberty
To make the world
Safe and free.

Well, that was that,
As you can see.
The rest is just

Hell, It Ain’t Over

(Ten years after the horrors of 9-11, this seems fitting.)

They say it ain’t over,
As any fool can see,
They got a lot to do
‘Fore it can ever be.
There’s shootin’
In the streets,
There’s blood
Upon the sand,
There is a frustration
In every native man.
He does not realize
As yet,
That we are here
To help him get
The thing that he
Has never had:


It takes a long, long time
To do
What we were sent
There to do:
Give back to this man
His own,
His own exalted land,
Where his forefathers
Took their stand
In centuries gone by.

The history of the world
Was born in this
Barren land,
The sand beneath his feet
Was trod by
Abraham and Isaac.
The civilizations
Of the world
Began with thoughts
Here unfurled,
To set man on
His troubled way
To reach the minds
That are today:
The leaders of this
Free, free world.

Impatient and ill at ease,
The liberated
Are not pleased.
Our efforts are not
Yet perceived
To be the promised
We can only hope
And pray
That little gains
Along the way
Will bring to them
The promised measure.

Then may they have
The path made clear
By we who have borne
The brunt of battle.
Let the blood
That we have shed
Bring gratefulness
From all who
Are rewarded.

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