Then on broad daylight we simulated darkness.
Some of it was rough, and some of it was fun . . .

At 0900 we leaned back against a tree and watched a flame
thrower crew put on a demonstration. This was good.

But brother, at 0945 we were sweating blood under a full field pack
and chasing the little man who wasn't there.  This was bad.

Dig! Dig! Dig! That's all "they" knew,
and every day we got more friendly with the worms.

We carry it, we clean it, we fire it,
and the squad leader gets the First Class Gunner's Medal.