They get up 'fore their sleep is through.
They push themselves when nothing's left.
They wait and wait with naught to do,
but watch and shoulder awful heft.
The cold, the snow, the freezing rain
stops not one of these ones, who serve.
The life of fame could bring them gain,
but not one of them ever swerve.
A wounded soldier in silence writhes,
protects his brothers to the last.
He's noticed, carried, for him strives.
To chopper, then to MASH the cast.
Not one is left behind to die
without a friend to breathe his last.
How dare forget we those who try,
until all precious life is passed!
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