This is another poem I have found in my travels, it was done by someone who shall always be unknown.
I heard a soldier as he knelt and prayed, And this is what he said:
God bless our buddies who now lay dead.
We don't know what you have in mind.
But when you judge them, please be kind.
when they come before you, they'll be poorly dressed:
but they'll walk proudly, for they did their best.
Their boots will be muddy and their clothes will be torn,
but these are the clothes they have worn proudly.
Their faces will be unshaven and stained with blood;
their lips will be caked with mud. Their hearts will be still
and cold inside, but they fought like hell and did so with pride.
So, please, take care of them as they pass your way,for the price
of freedom they've already paid. This one last thing we ask in
your name, bless and keep them in your Heavenly hall of fame.
