THE YOUNG HEROES


Forward they go into battle.
They kiss their loved ones good-bye.
Bravely they go; battle gear on,
Tears swimming in every eye.

Most are eighteen, nineteen or twenty,
So young to be going to war.
Hearts are beating so rapid...
And fear grips them right to the core.

Where is this place called Iraq?
Some never knew till this day;
And what are we going to do
When we reach this land far away?

Many remember in childhood...
Ali Babba and Forty Thieves.
When mother would read this story..
It was Baghdad and make believe.

Now it's a place they go to...
From which they may not come back.
No more a make believe land.
This place that is called Iraq.

They know in their hearts the reason
Their country is sending them here.
It's freedom for down trodden people;
Ruled by a tyrant they fear.

Suddenly they are landed
In a great desert land so vast.
It is then the soldier takes over...
And the child is left in the past.

Why is it the young we forfeit?
They are strong, devoted and true.
Forward they go where commanded;
To fight for the Red White and Blue.

They must keep the hounds at bay.
So they never can come to our shore.
They must rid Iraq of the tyrant;
So that he cannot kill anymore.

Suddenly! Fear grips them again,
When shots are fired. Not their own.
It's real! I'm here in a war.
I may die here and never go home.

This is not a war game they play.
These are not pop guns they hold.
This is a kill or be killed war.
Don't hesitate; they have been told.

They fall on their bellies in foxholes.
Guns are held up much higher.
Sand fills their nose and their eyes,
But their guns must be clean to fire.

The thunderous sound of the bombings,
That never seem to decrease.
Civilians surrender, hands held high
Waving a white flag of peace.

From the land of the free they come.
To a nation across the sea.
A desert place of sand and oil,
And people who want to be free.

They have not come to conquer or pillage.
They have come with one thought in mind.
To bring an end to a tyrant's rule,
And all others like him, of his kind.

Who thinks this war is illegal?
They're the one's who are already free.
They have not suffered injustice.
Nor neither have you nor me.

We are giving the pride of our nation.
Young men and women so brave.
Heroes we send and heroes will die,
For another nation to save.

Their young hearts learn very soon;
They must bury the child inside.
They hear their buddies cry mama
Screaming in pain as they died.

Thank God for the brave coalition...
Who fight for the right by our side.
Shame on those who refused to help.
Now go hang your heads down and hide.

We will be the ones victorious.
We won't need any help from you.
May Allah protect you when we relent,
When you find yourself in a stew.

God bless and take care of our children.
These brave young soldiers who cry.
May they never doubt for a moment,
The reason they're here and the why.

Copyright © 2003 Carol Bouche' Ottlinger

You can watch war on your TV screen or listen to your radio but you can never know what war is like until you have suffered it yourself. I focused on the faces of the soldiers and what they might be thinking. Such young faces. In some, I could see the fear and the tiredness but still they go on. God keep these heroes safe from harm till they're safely back in their families arms.

Stories / Articles 2003



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