Desert Rats (5)

Capt. Pfile  received a liberal arts education at Elmhurst College in Chicago, and had always been fond of classic literature.  On occasion, particularly when he was bored, he would try his hand at writing facetious poetry.  Here is one such:

Looking toward the Chuckwalla Mountains

Desert Rats

by Eugene Pfile

Listen all Medics and you shall hear

Of the desert maneuvers that ruined our rear.

T'was the 3rd day of August in the year forty-two

When that Terrible Seventh left Ord-by-the-blue.

Our trucks were all loaded, our men and our mice,

We jumped on the train and journeyed to Rice.

Out there on the desert that smart mortals shun,

We began to pitch camp right out in the sun.

Where before only buzzards wheeled thru the sky

We set up a hospital, none other was nigh.

We put up some ward tents, we set up some beds

We started a PX and lights o'er our heads.

We hauled in some water, we cooked up some chow.

We tore up the desert - you'd not know it now.

Our latrines had been dug, a right lucky break

For soon it got started, that fierce belly ache.

Soon we had rumblings and grumblings galore,

It came out behind as never before.

Of cramps there were plenty and fever a bit,

But one word expressed it and that word was S---!

Now we still live here, our name has been changed,

But spirits are rising and troubles go hanged.

When we shall leave here or where we shall go,

There are plenty of rumors but few persons know.

But we will be happy inspite of the heat

If belly's stay silent and we have "to eat".

We can't help remembering the days that are gone,

When all lived in houses and slept past the dawn.

We don't live like men, we don't live like bats,

We all live together, we're just desert rats.



Looking south from the camp