Day 150....

I have a SPECIAL treat for you today, boys and girls! To honor my father for Father's Day, I am posting one of my favorite poems of his. I know he wouldn't mind me sharing it with the world.

Most of you probably already know that my dad served in the 2nd Armored Division of the US Army and was under the command of General George S. Patton during WWII. He wrote this poem about a training mission they were on down in southern Louisiana around the beginning of the war. He included a couple of notes regarding the poem to help better understand it, which are as follows:

NOTE: For the purpose of discipline, those under Patton's command were required to wear a necktie, while those of other military units and the National Guard were not. Shelter halves were 1/2 of a regulation pup-tent; two were buttoned together to erect.

THE BALLAD OF GENERAL GEORGE

By Birl R. Brown, Sr. (c) 2006

T'was in the southern parishes in Louisiana's heat

That General Georgie Patton's boys learned about "compete".

Chiggers, ticks and okra fields, and skeeters big as tanks,

And a plentitude of gnats abound to aggravate the ranks,

For Louisiana's hot as hell, and only God knows why,

But I am one of Patton's boys, and I must wear my tie!

Generals George and Ed Rommel were classmates years ago,

For both attended V.M.I. to warfare better know,

But time had sharpened up the sword that cut the cord between.

It's like a guess in Russian chess, before a move's foreseen.

Louisiana's hot as hell, which none at all deny,

But I'm a Georgie Patton boy and I have to wear my tie!

Always, the tie must tuck between two buttons of the shirt,

The third and second only, please, or suffer Georgie's hurt.

The tanks develop clouds of dust and resporators clog.

The heavy tanks can lose a track, or stick in oily bog,

Where Louisiana's hot as hell, and I'm about to fry,

But I am still a Patton boy, and I always wear my tie!

There was a time the General went to check the river's brink

Where a million huntry skeeters live, but he was there to think

And plan just how the units, in a crossing there, could fight.

So concentrated was his thought, he never felt a bite,

And I was wrapped in shelter halves, and just about to cry,

But yet, since I'm a Patton boy, I still had on my tie!

On a night run into Texas, we were weary through and through.

The General reached into his brief and a little flask withdrew.

He offered it to his Driver, who didn't drink, alas! It passed

Around from each to each: he took his swallow last.

I'll remember that 'Old Taylor' when I lay me down to die,

Just close the little coffin, please, but don't forget the tie!

We didn't.