[snippy_about_it]

Wow. What stories he must have been able to tell.

[GailA]

Dennis said he only told them when half crocked. Drinking muddy water, bloody water, disentary, the gore and other horrors. The heat and smells.

Merrill's Marauders Last Stand

At Myitkynia today they lie at rest,
They were soldiers all, and gave their best.
They fought and died in days of rain,
And prayed for a sun that never came.

Through mud they crawled to find their foe,
They cursed and bitched, but on they'd go.
As the days went by, and the nights fell,
They all slept on walls of hell.

Artillery shells with their melody of death,
Whistled by with each drawn---in breath.
As dawn came to light the earth,
Amid sniper fire, through filth,
In falling rain, they fought on.
Hope to live by then had gone. Myitkyina has fallen at last,
They would be glad to know of the finished task,
But the trails are filled with Yankee blood,
Of gallant men who fought and died in Burma mud.
Brave men, these, they fought---and fell.
Bless them all, God---treat them well.

This poem was sent to Ralph's brother Albert Keasling by PFC. Ralph L. Keasling from Burma in 1944.