There are things you can ask any soldier you meet; Who’s a friend or relation, or lives on your street. Did you travel to countries that we’ve never seen? Did you take lots of photos of the places you’ve been? Did you try all the foods in those countries afar? Did you fly there, or drive there, in your shiny new car? But one question he won’t have a set answer for, Is have you faced danger, or fought in a war?
The soldier will tell you of those times with his friends, When they drank lots of whisky, of various blends. He’ll gladly tell you of the sports that he plays, And of places he’s been to on warm summer days. He’ll smile as he tells you of foreign romances, And the beautiful ladies he’s met as he dances. But he won’t be grateful if you ask him the score, Of the shots that he’s fired when he’s fought in a war.
There are things that a soldier would rather forget. That are never discussed when with comrades he’s met. The moments of terror, the hours of shock, The days spent in fear are the memories he’ll block. He will have moody days and he’ll have sleepless nights, As his mind tries to forget unforgettable sights. So whenever you think that this soldier’s a bore, Just give him your patience, he’s a victim of war