Book Two: On the verge of war
(This is a fictional poetic series and short story about events that never take place and about people that have never existed. Any representation of an actual event or person is purely coincidental in nature.)
Mission Four: On the verge of war
The plane lands at Nabahood base airstrip.
The platoon leader was there to meet me.
The captain wanted the report of my last trip.
I was told to see the promotions committee.
I told the waitress to refill my glass.
My men lifted their glasses in the air.
I was promoted to sergeant first class.
They dump their beers all in my hair.
The only thing, I remember that night,
We were at a bar named Rick’s Place
The only reason we got into the fight
Some jarhead punched me in the face.
I slammed a chair against his head.
Into tiny pieces, the chair breaks up.
His entire shirt turned a bloody red.
Through out the bar, fighting erupts.
This fight was Army against Marines.
My men and I were in the middle of it.
We go out, we quickly cause a scene.
We will leave the scene just as quick.
The next day, the base was put on alert.
I did not believe the news that came in.
Over fourteen thousand people were hurt.
Our embassy was bombed in Amanastan.
The Pentagon sent out the order.
All personnel were told to report in.
Our ships were already in the water.
The transports were loaded with men.
The U. S. Army Rangers unit prepares for war.
We clean every weapon and pack all our gear.
We have practiced the drill time and time before.
Somewhere behind enemy lines, we will appear.
(Copyright 2007)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem