God And The Combat Simulation Range Poem by Bill Grace

The on the border of asphixiation event was a training incident
The statistics missed
That came from not understanding the proper technique
For the combat simulation crawl which in my day was
Vastly more of a push with the legs
Than a lift of outstretched arms
In modified push up style.

The glow of the machine gun tracers
Were close enough to light the night's sand
You could not stand up to risk a bullet in the head -
Or even worse - the attention of a drill sergeant,
So you craawled forward in perfect harmony with others
Which was the intention of the exercise.

Asphixiation is not a pleasant thing
The Romans knew how to to use it well
For a thing today we call political terror
So in my night of greatest crisis when a cross came so near
I prayed with the greatest intensity of my life to date:
'Dear God help me! ' and I felt a presence
And in this God did.

There is a sequel to this old soldier's story
Of being a chaplain's assistant many years later
Being told by a patient in the great cancer hospital
'I don't need your product.'
The product being: God or spirit or religion or divinity
or some other poor derivative of what I felt that night.
I am sure this man also prayed once
I am also sure he did not feel a presence
Of an incident the statistics missed.