Marine Corps Poems: China Duty
Carl | October 11, 2013
In the worst hell hole of the Yellow Sea are the men who God forgot,we fight against the fever, the plague,the lice and the Chinese rot.
Living amidst disease-ridden Chinese in quarters that no one will own on the scum-soaked edge of the Yellow Sea.
Eight thousand miles from home, varmints on our pillows at night and ills that no doctor can cure.
Hell no, we’re not exiled convicts— just Marines on a foreign tour.
Nobody knows we’re living and nobody gives a damn, back home we’ve been forgotten, we, the Marines of Uncle Sam.
We’re civilization’s outcasts living life at its very worst, have pity on the man who sent us may his soul be forever cursed.
Sometimes we have a mail run, just certain guys get it all, the rest just stand and wonder— who in Hell’s not on the ball?
When payday comes to old Tsingtao, we squander our meager pay, aise merry hell for an evening nd are broke the next sorry day.
Haunted with thoughts at evening e lay on our sacks and dream, killing ourselves with vodka to dam up memory’s stream.
Here where a man’s soul rots away there is one thing we all know well, we shall meet again in heaven for we’ve done our hitch in Hell!
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