Excerpts from Summer 1959 Edition
Cruel and immoral,
Snapping after civilization with large and ugly jaws,
Snapping with odious teeth,
Snapping, and spitting fire and death,
Snapping, always snapping,
Hungry for human flesh,
Thirsty for human blood,
A foul-smelling beast with an insatiable appetite;
War will torture him who hates it,
Destroy him who fears it,
Devour him who feeds it.
War is like the Devil's wild fire
Ravaging through the thick, unwanted woods;
It blazes brilliantly, until, with nothing left to be destroyed
It smoulders and dies.
He's one of many on this hill;
He lies so motionless and still;
Not yet mature, he was a youth
Who battled in our fight for truth.
His face is pale; his skin is fair;
Beneath his helmet, curly hair;
A pool of blood lies at his head.
He lives no more, this soldier dead.
His battle, won; his fight, complete;
He hears no more the marching feet
That join the ranks to take his place;
Nor will they ever know his face.
The job, we know it shall be done;
None will cease till the battle's won.
To us a symbol shall he be
Of those who fought to make men free.
This boy shall not have died in vain;
We fight on mountain and the plain.
He will be with us everywhere —
This fair-skinned lad with curly hair.