Long Sergeants Poems
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The dreaded news came from his Uncle Sam with a nice salutation:
"Greetings, Nephew! I need you to help defend the nation!"
He pleaded with the draft board but they turned a deaf ear.
"Your claim of hereditary hang nails won't do, now get outta here!"
At Fort Bleak, the sergeant said, "Your army career has just begun!
Forget Mom, Dad and Maggie Mae, you belong to me now, my son!
Just pay attention, keep your mouth shut, don't give me any sass;
Keep your brogans shined, weapon cleaned, always salute the brass!"
The clothes they issued didn't fit, he looked a terrible disgrace!
His shoes were so big, that in them he could do an about face!
Herded to the barber, he was shorn of all his hair!
Two hours in the army and already sick of the entire affair!
He presented both arms to the medics for numerous injections.
His trembling nude body was subjected to minute inspections.
At last thro' the induction line, his head reeling and spinning!
No sympathy from the sergeants - they just stood there grinning!
The baffled recruit marched to the mess for the evening repast.
Gravy on toast and figs on a steel tray left him hungry and aghast!
The sergeants finally let him collapse in his welcoming cot,
Completely befuddled and bewildered by his hapless lot!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Right Reserved)
The marksmen took their position a century away from the target
The silhouette shape stood defenceless at the far end of the range
A clear sign of an alarmingly unequal contest in difficult times
Fred was unhappy with this situation of involuntary manslaughter
Had objected on conscientious grounds to Armed Forces conscription
But the killers knew his values and morals seemingly better than him
Align eye with sight and with aim breathe out firm grip on the trigger
'Better dead than red' the sergeants had shouted and 'men don’t refuse'
'Hit the bastards right where it counts be kind with a quick speedy death'
His shooting lane was number three and he deemed that good fortune
‘Bang’ and he released the bullet and felt only mild pain in his shoulder
Like a true connoisseur he waited for the results to be transmitted
Tension mounted the drama unfolded and Fred was an unlikely champion
Lane score results: One 48 Two 48 Three 0 Four 48 and 48 Five 48
Fred had a fine subtle point of some opposition and Either Can Win
02nd May 2018
Written for contest: crap shoot
Sponsored by John Lawless
I took the contest description as offering 4 possible sub themes to chose from
I chose 'Either Can Win'
He served with valor in the World War Two and Korean wars,
Earning The Combat Infantryman Badge for storming foreign shores.
Now that his grandson had volunteered to serve his nation,
The old soldier shared with the lad some useful information.
"Son, I'm so proud that you're carrying on the family tradition.
I have some words of advice that might help with your transition.
When you raise your right hand, take seriously that obligation.
There is no more noble cause than serving this great nation!"
"Though your sergeants may seem mean and are apt to harass,
Pay attention to their guidance, don't give them any sass!
The discipline they will instill may someday save your life,
Should, God forbid, you find yourself in some terrible strife."
"Shine your boots, square that cap, wear the uniform with pride.
Remember those you've sworn to serve, let that be your guide.
Salute the flag and officers smartly, you'll grow in self-esteem.
If others despair, urge them on, you'll be leader of the team!"
"Learn all you can and serve others with selfless devotion,
And you'll soon be selected for a well-deserved promotion.
When you face tough times, always look to the One who cares."
He proudly embraced the lad saying, "You'll be in my prayers!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
The Army was getting desperate in nineteen-forty-three,
For warm bodies to fill vacancies in the good old infantry.
Alas, the draft board beckoned causing his heart to sink.
Thus, began the notorious career of Private Roscoe D. Schlink!
He was a naive country boy from Bean Blossom, Indiana.
They sent him for training to Fort Fumble in Louisiana.
Only five-feet-four, he was issued clothes much too large.
"Don't worry, I'll make a man of you, son!" said old sarge!
At marching and drilling he proved less than deft.
He could never figure out his right foot from his left!
Sergeants growled at him with uncouth elocution.
Roscoe just couldn't do anything with sharp execution!
On long treks he was in the rear running to catch up.
Petulant sergeants ever screaming, "Closeup! Closeup!"
During inspections he amassed reams of damning demerits,
And spent many weekends paring heaps of taters and carrots!
Later in the heat of battle he reached deep within his soul.
When those with lesser mettle faltered, he assumed control.
That day his gallantry overshadowed others by far.
For his courage he was awarded the coveted Silver Star!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Buck privates are designated the lowliest of the ranks,
And for all they do, they receive very little thanks.
The corporal says do this and the sergeant says do that,
And if he doesn't comply, he's in for a disagreeable chat!
The sobriquet "private" is a misnomer if ever there was one,
Because privates have absolutely no privacy and very little fun!
From the call of reveille to the plaintive notes of "Taps",
He's kept on a frantic pace until ready to collapse!
The sergeant rides in a jeep, the corporal in a truck,
But the foot slogging private is just out of luck.
With his weapon and meager belongings strapped on his back,
He walks and it's all he can do to keep from blowing his stack!
The recruiting sergeant's syrupy spiel failed to include,
That corporals and sergeants tend to be somewhat rude!
And to everything that moves he must render a salute!
Before enlisting, he muses, "I should've been more astute!"
He keeps plugging along and playing their inane game,
Satisfied that if anything goes wrong he can't be to blame.
He'll just continue to take orders from the powers that be,
Eagerly awaiting his discharge from the infernal infantry!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
I was relaxin' on the patio the other day, musin' as I often do,
About a few things that brought about vic'try in Dubya Dubya Two.
There were no computers, cell phones, night goggles, drones or such.
How we won the war sans such contrivances, I have wondered much!
One thing that played a vital role was Coca Cola fer GIs their thirst to quench!
Another was Rosie the Riveter in baggy coveralls wieldin' hammer and wrench!
Moms saved grease, tended vic'try gardens and the kids collected scrap,
And workin' overtime makin' planes, tanks and guns was dear old Pap!
Air Raid Wardens prowled about at night raisin' 'ell if they saw a gleam of light.
Plane Watchers strained their orbs so enemy planes would never over-flight.
"Kilroy Was Here!" was our battle cry but no one ever saw that elusive dude!
Glenn Miller kept spirits high playin' "Dawn Patrol" and romantic "In The Mood!"
Mean ol' sergeants yelled and screamed at recruits whippin' 'em into shape!
(Second lieutenants were a nuisance - good fer nuthin' except fer addin' red tape!)
We would never, ever have won the war without the lowly but reliable jeep,
Nor the GI helmet, great fer bathin', boilin' beans or yer joe to steep!
V-mail letters kept loved ones in touch - there was no E-mail way back when!
War Bond Rallies to "Keep 'Em Flying" and "Buy A Jeep" were held now and then.
Folks tightened their belts fer the rationin' of tires, sugar, coffee and meat.
These are just a few things that helped bring about the enemy's utter defeat!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
The uniform was issued to him during the Second World War.
Tho' at first it was somewhat ill-fitting, it he proudly wore.
He was a mere lad of eighteen when his Army career began,
But as that savage conflict raged on, he rapidly became a man!
He considered it an honor to wear the uniform of his nation.
Little brother and sis idolized their hero with great admiration.
His sweetheart was so proud to be escorted upon his arm.
Mom and Dad were also proud and prayed he'd meet no harm.
He wore his uniform on their wedding day, she a bit misty-eyed,
As she saw her handsome soldier when he took her as his bride.
Tho' they faced uncertainty in a world that had gone awry,
They vowed love and faithfulness as they said their sad goodbye.
He stowed his uniform in his duffel and donned his battle dress,
Slogging thro' Pacific jungle isles as forward he did press.
Among the many medals and other laurels that he did achieve,
He was honored with sergeants stripes sewn upon each sleeve!
After the war, tho' a bit snug, he wore his uniform with pride,
In many patriotic parades as he marched with resolute stride!
For his final roll call he wore the uniform as his funereal shroud.
God greeted him saying, "Son you sure have made Me proud!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
When old vets gather at a pub to reminisce with their peers,
And their tongues are mellowed with a few free-flowing beers,
Raucous war stories and much back slapping are apt to befall,
As unique people, places and events they tend to recall!
Supercilious officers and their puffery is a subject of disdain,
As are first sergeants and drill sergeants, who were their bane!
A first sergeant tried to defend himself, but he didn't win,
And was ordered to buy another round of beers, much to his chagrin!
A marine proclaimed that the war would've been lost without Marines!
A sailor declared the bravest guys cruised in submarines!
This brought a howl from all the ground-pounding grunts,
Who with one accord asserted they'd not tolerate such affronts!
An air corps guy said it was the flyboys that saved the day!
This elicited a retort from a coastguard vet who had his say!
A quartermaster said it was he who supplied C-rations and boots,
Showering upon his head a chorus of jeers, hollers and hoots!
As time went on, they discussed the serious side of strife,
The horror of war and dear comrades who had forfeited life.
The final consensus was they'd won the war altogether.
These are the things that vets talk about when they get together!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Obstruction to Department of Justice is resignation and contempt
Per delay of justice
Justice of the peace
Free Speech obstruction
Case at the podium?
Three of the five captains in the Sheriff’s Office were notified this week they are under an Internal Affairs investigation, according to the deputy and sergeants unions.
The significant investigation into top officers in the Sheriff’s Office rank-and-file comes as the county awaits the results of a two-week evidentiary hearing that will inform whether the Board of Supervisors should remove Sheriff Christina Corpus for misconduct and retaliation
Reference common sense or request stand aside as holster cannot approach gavel or robes.
Otherwise custody must be taken of faculty for contempt.
None are in financial abandons realm of eminent loss of life from neglect.
Justice is not blind only silence for the deaf neglect the speech of poverty.
The poor writing are literally a parallel in and against overt war acts.
All are feeling anxious on the old camp ground this night.
Weary Yanks are girding for tomorrow's awful fight.
Young soldiers loll about, staring blankly into slowly dying embers,
Dreaming of home, recalling happier times that each remembers.
Supper is finished, the usual rancid coffee, hardtack and beans.
The sentries call out, "All Is Well!", one of their hourly routines.
Sergeants huddle with comrades, offering solace to their platoon.
From across the way is heard a harmonica's melancholy tune.
From afar, Rebel cannon is heard, a portent of things to come.
Men in gray are readied for battle to the beat of muffled drum.
The ebon sky is aglow with the cannons' awesome display,
Competing with the moon, overshadowing its mellow ray.
Here and there a Bible is opened to the Twenty-third Psalm,
To once again be comforted by that eternal message of calm.
Pensive eyes that on the 'morrow may be forever sealed,
Gaze upward, imploring God's embrace as their guardian shield.
Hastily penned notes read, "If I should be borne to heaven above,
Know that we will be reunited in The Father's gracious love!"
Gallant men draw upon their innate will, apprehensions to allay.
The dulcet strains of "Taps" lowers the curtain on another day.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)