The Garand, a poem

kraigWY

CMP GSM MI
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Minuteman
Feb 10, 2006
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<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Quote:</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Do you wonder why that rifle
Is hanging in my den?
You know I rarely take it down
But I touch it now and then.
It’s rather slow and heavy
By standards of today
But not too many years ago
It swept the rest away.
It’s held its own in battles
Through snow, or rain, or sun
And I had one just like it,
This treasured old M-1.
It went ashore at Bougainville
In Nineteen Forty-Three.
It stormed the beach at Tarawa
Through a bullet-riddled sea.
Saipan knew its strident bark,
Kwajelein, its sting.
The rocky caves of Peleliu
Resounded with its ring.
It climbed the hill on Iwo
With men who wouldn’t stop
And left our nation’s banner
Flying on the top.
It poked its nose in Pusan,
Screamed an angry roar
And took the First Division
From Chosin Reservoir.
Well, time moves on
And things improve
With rifles and with men,
And that is why the two of us
Are sitting in my den.
But sometimes on a winter night,
While thinking of my Corps,
I know that if the bugle blew
We’d be a team once more.


~ R.A. Gannon
Sergeant of Marines</div></div>
 
Re: The Garand, a poem

That's cool, Kraig. I once took a couple issues of the GCA mag to the local VA, thinking some of the vets would enjoy them. One cover had a sharp, young Marine on it. When I handed it to a guy in the waiting room his eyes lit up. "I used to look like that!"
 

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