Ain't It The Truth

 

You may talk about your Captains and Majors.

You may boast til your gums get sore;

But please don't forget us Privates, the boys who are winning the war.

They say the Colonel won that battle.

They laud and gave him a star;

But wait-let's look into the picture and his praises don't spread quite so far.

For there on the battlefield, broken, bloody, muddy and sore is Private Smith of Hoboken, the lad who is winning the war.

The Irish have one Private Kelley, a doughboy so tired, yet so true;

Who despite the three slugs in his belly,

Fights on for the red, white and blue.

Although we won't gain any headlines;

But I'm sure up near God's Golden Chair.

Beside all the Colonels and Generals

There is a place for Privates to share.

 

Written by:

T-5 Clyde Kelley

Who Served In Germany

With the 9th Army

World War II

 

In Memory

of

Clyde Kelley

 

In Honor

of

1st Sgt. Rickey Kelley

115th Signal BN Company B