The 17th of July was the date, for the service I left my state.
A plane on Wednesday across the nation, took me to my duty station.
Blistering heat and physical tests, shows a Marine never rests.
Boys in twelve weeks turned to men; how many will see their homes again?

Always faithful is the thing, and this the fight the great ones bring.
Families, friends, so far away, while he in war could die today!
The first to enter the last to leave, war trodden places they relieve.
They fight the enemy in jungles near, with combat valor, but also, fear.

A fight for life and maybe, death, fighting to his dying breath.
Never quiting in fighting rough, keeping on going when the going's tough.
They fight with spirit and do it well, in their life a living hell.
Fighting on land or air or sea, where ever their call to arms may be.

Unchained terrors tried and true, with nothing that they couldn't do.
Many fought and many died, but those that live, live on in pride.
When any country gives the call, the Marines will go and give their all.
Built on courage, strength and speed, loyalty and victory is their creed.

Within their faces you see the pride, they try so greatly to keep inside.
They're regular people, they feel pain, they feel stress they feel strain.
They fight at night, they fight in day, quickly, bravely in their own way.
A battle in water, land or plains, they fight when no-one else remains.

Rockets, bombs and mortar shells, pass overhead in mighty swells.
He never has a chance to rest, while fighting for countries war oppressed.
Doing battle without relief, to keep all free is their belief.
For freedom, justice, life and peace, fighting wars to help them cease.

Only a man but he gives his all, to save the lives of children small.
He's just a man but he does his best, to keep us free and safe at rest.
Once a boy of three or four and now a body that breathes no more.
With courage, strength, determination, they're the best of any nation.

He sees his family and friends no more, but they are what he's fighting for.
Talking, laughing, just before, he talks and laughs and breathes no more.
For those who fought and are now through, remember that they fought for you,
For those that back home are are now well, heaven is theirs, life was hell.

Lord let me fight to keep us free; for those who fought and died for me.
Help me to be strong and good, to do the job the way I should.
Stay with me always day and night, while I sleep, while I fight.
Most of all stay with me ever, so if I die we'll be together.

Fighting yet, my hopes are glistening, Lord let me know You are listening.
The lonliness that I have known, is none, compared, Lord to Your own.
Looking back at hill 55, Thanks for letting me survive.
And when attacked on 41, Thanks for getting them on the run.

As was the case when on hill 10, my faith in You came through again.
And finally as we hit 37, Thanks for looking down from Heaven.
So tonight as I lay sleeping, awaiting another day of weeping,
I'll ask You as a thief once did, Lord PLEASE remember the Rolke Kid.

Bill Rolke

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