Michael Pruchnicki

Rear Echelon Combat - Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

Far from high velocity rounds zinging
overhead, rear echelon MFers type
up the morning reports and casualty
lists from Company A on a hot day.

They swat pesky flies and sweat
in air-conditioned pyramid tents
wearing starched BDUs and
shiny jump boots laced just so

No CBIs here! Crossed rifles
are just a far-fetched metaphor
for three hots and a cot
in a combat zone -
no purple hurts here!

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 4, 2008

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