On Guard

So the guard positions that we have at our small base are not as rough as the ones that I describe in this poem but you get the idea:

The soldier lays in the prone during
the dark early hours of
the morning, watching his
post with mental awareness.
He trains his trusty weapon
at the dark shadows
that are near his
well dug position.
He knows that at any moment
the enemy can attack and
it is his job to stay guard
while his buddy at his side
sleeps in peaceful slumber.
Under the cold starry Afghan night
the soldier guards his section
of the patrol base.
As he watches he thinks and ponders
of what his family and friends are
doing while he is at war.
While the soldier shivers in his hole
clutching his weapon, his friends
back home are laying in their warm
beds clutching their pillows.
The soldiers pillow is the side of the
foxhole that he props his helmet
against. He pulls his blanket up
as far as he can over his armored body.
The patrol base is up and moving before
light. The soldiers silently put
their gear away in their bags
without the help of light so as not
alert possible enemy.
Blessed be the Lord God in Heaven who is all knowing, all loving, and all merciful. Amen.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. zen says:

    meh. I like your other posts better 😛

    not a bad poem though.


  2. Egidio says:

    Yeah well like I told you not everything I put up here is going to relate to each other. I wrote this poem about a year ago and really liked it so I posted it.


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