Horse Soldiers
The bugler's piercing call sounds "Reveille" at the break of dawn.
Young horse soldiers rise, rub their eyes and stifle a gaping yawn.
The brawny Irish Sergeant bellows, "Up and at 'em lads!
You belong to me and the army now - forget your moms and dads!"
A wretched meal of bacon, beans and coffee awaits them in the mess.
Endless bugle calls throughout the day adds to their duress.
There are horses to curry and saddle and other chores ad infinitum.
All of this for a lousy one hundred and fifty-six bucks per annum!
Perilous patrols in the saddle in every sort of miserable condition:
Heat in the summer, freezing in the winter - a never-ending perdition!
Weary, saddle sore, ever heedful to the commands of their "sarge".
Ever alert to the bugler's clarion call, " To Horse! Charge!"
At the end of the month they collect their meager pay.
Most repairing to the local "hog ranch" just down the way,
To enjoy the delights of a "soiled dove", gamble, drink and fight,
Later to be confined in the guardhouse feeling mighty contrite!
These stalwart men ensured that Manifest Destiny was carried out,
Enduring untold hardships and protecting the treacherous route.
Many paid the ultimate price and lie in a desolate, lonely grave.
Soldiers who our horizons expanded and whose lives they freely gave.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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