Shock Trooper
There is pride in each branch of the forces,
From boot camp to far oversea,
A pride whose ebullient source is
The spirit of men who are free;
But the pride that is tallest and deepest
Is that of the battle-wise clan
Whose lives are the toughest—and cheapest,
The pride of the Combat Man.
No matter how long or how much is
The task of support and supply,
He knows, when it comes to the clutches,
That he is the Ultimate Guy:
The spearhead, the bludgeon, the hammer,
Expended “according to plan”
But wrapped in that grim, gutful glamour,
The pride of the Combat Man.
It’s a pride that is utterly stranger
To phrases of splendor and fire.
He knows that the “Bright Face of Danger”
Is blackened with blood and with mire.
And only he fronts the cold glare in
The bleak eyes of Fate he must scan;
So—none but his buddies can share in
The pride of the Combat Man.
It’s a pride that keeps hopeless men trying
Whom no other power can drive,
It’s a pride in the will to face dying
And to sweat and to freeze—and survive;
A pride that’s the basic, eternal
Hard core of that strange, aloof clan—
The heart and the marrow and kernel
And soul of the Combat Man!
(by Berton Braley)