Gunny, the sergeant, the leader of men ... poem by Stefano Donno

In the heat of battle, on foreign shores,

A soldier fights, for what he adores.

His gun, his only companion, his friend,

On which he relies, until the bitter end.

 

The gunny, the sergeant, the leader of men,

A mentor, a teacher, a fatherly friend.

He guides them, he molds them, he makes them strong,

For the battles ahead, for the war, they belong.

 

The pain, the sorrow, the loss they feel,

Is numbed by the gun, the metal, the steel.

It gives them power, it gives them might,

In the darkest of moments, it brings them light.

 

But the gunny knows, the toll it takes,

The weight of war, the lives it breaks.

He tries to shield them, from the pain,

But in the end, it's all in vain.

 

For war, it changes, who we are,

It leaves us scarred, it leaves us marred.

And the gunny, he knows, all too well,

That the toll of war, is a living hell.

 

So he fights on, with his men by his side,

With the gun in hand, he will not hide.

And when the battle's won, and the war is done,

The gunny will look back, and remember the ones,

 

Who fought and died, for a cause they believed,

Who left behind, the ones they loved and grieved.

And the gunny, he'll stand, with head held high,

And salute his fallen, with a tear in his eye.