Reginald Walker

Rookie - 3 Points (July 9,1964 / Marion, Alabama)

(updated) The U. S. Army Ranger, A Poetic Series, On The Verge Of War 6 - Poem by Reginald Walker

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 Six: A fifty-ton bomb dropped from the air

The enemy’s base was on Amanastan border.
Our platoon was chosen to get the job done.
Search and destroy was the general’s order.
We load up the heavy fifty-cal machine gun

The enemy’s base camp was soon located.
The U. S. Army Rangers lay on the ground.
The base will soon be completely eradicated.
We slowly move in without making one sound.

Seventy enemy men were killed in the first attack.
They were cut down by our heavy machine gun.
The captain orders me to come from the back.
He has developed a plan to quickly end this one.

I am given some kind of flashlight gadget.
An officer instructs me on how to use it.
I am to shine the light right on the target.
I must run like hell after the bomb hit.

Hurriedly, I get up and get on my way.
An Air Force bomber lifts up into the air
We will destroy the enemy’s base camp today.
With a fifty-ton bomb dropped from the air.

I rode through the dense forest as fast as I could.
I just barely beat the Air Force bomber there
I carefully aim the laser site from where I stood.
The plane drops the bomb from a mile in the air.

The bunker buster bomb hits the base.
I take cover at the bottom of a ditch.
A fireball rises and floats off into space.
My mission went off without a hitch.

Our platoon closed in on the destroyed base.
Dead bodies were lying just about everywhere.
One guy had an arm rammed through his face.
The distinct smell of death lingered in the air.

Body parts were scattered everywhere.
The bomb had destroyed the enemy.
A decapitated body still sat in a chair.
A man’s head fell down from the tree.

The body count was eleven hundred and one
There were a lot more that died later that day.
The war was over before it even begun.
At least, that is what the newspaper will say.

(Copyright 2007)


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, September 30, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 12, 2011


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