Across the sea in a far off land,
Hunkered down in a bombed out farmhouse, a soldier makes his final stand.
Seriously wounded, but no fear does he show,
As the enemy approaches, he’s locked and loaded and ready to go.
As darkness nears this may be his only break,
With night vision goggles on he is willing to give back as much as he must take.
If his ammo holds out he may have a chance,
In hopes that his squad can reach him in their forward advance.
As pain from his wounds are taking their toll.
A vision of getting home to his wife and young son is now his primary goal.
He wipes away sweat even though the weather is cold,
With no thought of quit he waits for whatever to unfold.
Rat-a-tat-tat, the machine guns make their report,
As he holds his fire, at the present, the ball is in his court.
They don’t know for sure he’s there as they try to draw his fire,
As he huddles close to the ground in his own blood and mire.
All at once they are upon him as he raises to shoot,
But the enemy falls before he does and it takes a moment for this to compute.
Then he spots his comrades as they make there way to him,
He said you guys are a sight for sore eyes, he said my chances were getting pretty slim.
They get him to a med-o-vac and back to base,
As they work feverishly to save his life, he loses an arm in this ongoing race.
Weak and weary, they ship him back to the states,
To convalesce, and thank God that his arm, the price he paid for our freedom was to be his
He thanked the Lord for sparing him one arm to hold his wife and little son,
He thanked the Lord that he got to come home and his battle was done.
He thanked the Lord for a country that embraced him in his darkest hour,
And to the Lord he gave all Glory and Thanks for His Almighty Power.