Iron City

Iron City

I’ve been asked the question, and been given the suggestion,
to talk about our life so far away.
So, with as much impunity as allowed in our community,
here’s how it is, a blueprint for our day.

It’s more than we merited, the place that we inherited,
that our brothers built with muscle, sweat and toil,
but by design or fate, this is now OUR real estate,
now watch as Iron City grows in the dusty soil.

With cunning and common sense, we have seen to our defense,
earthen walls surround us from the waters to the sands,
and inside the buildings old, that the shelling pierced and holed,
cribs and hooches form with lots of helping hands.

There’s shelter from the squalls, pinup girls adorn some walls,
hand-drawn pictures say “I Love You, Daddy” on the door.
Music thumps and blares, through the halls and down the stairs,
Xbox gamers fight in chairs, or on the floor.

Here in Iron City, now, I know I’m sounding witty
when I tell you that we make the best of things,
as we spend our nights and days in the gyms and Web cafés,
staying fit and watching what our email brings,

But combat’s nearby medley is all too serious and deadly,
and there’s excitement enough to fill your heart’s desire.
But we’re all a team and crew, and that’s the feeling I had, too,
when it came MY turn to go outside the wire.

It was about at half-past eight, I stood at Iron City’s gate,
waiting in the sun with patience for my ride,
then we closed the doors up tight, and made sure that all was right,
before we ventured through the gate and rode outside.

I saw no combat patch on the soldier in the hatch,
but I saw the truth that needs no fancy speech
when I saw and felt the smolder in the eyes of that young soldier,
as she jacked another round into the breech.

The Euphrates met my eye, as the convoy speeded by,
bringing this land its waters and its stream.
And when our task was done, we rode off into the sun,
and I was thinking while I heard the engines’ scream,

As I beheld the dusty, gritty, fortress walls of Iron City,
and went walking later, lit by moon and star,
when the fighting isn’t through, and there’s yet a job to do,
that it doesn’t really matter where you are.

So I spend my days and nights under Iron City’s lights,
while others say this trip’s already tiresome,
as I’m puffing on my pipe, and I’m living the soldier’s life,
Iron City is my Home Away From Home.

© 24 AUG 2005 by SSG JSR