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I Dreamed of the Man I Killed
by A. A. "Bud" Fletcher, 1942



I ate bully beef for breakfast and I guess you fared on rice
   and all in the world seemed not so bad.
Tropic war ain't home nor heaven, but the moon and breeze are nice
   and the chow today was not the worst we've had.

I didn't ask for this place, but I dreamed of what I got---
   a chance to guard the things I like in life.
And you had dreams of serving the Mikado like as not---
   but mine embraced the shield and yours the knife.

Now, I don't blame the student for what the teachers taught
   but accepting what they taught was up to you.
And perception of what's evil by a mind that God has wrought
   is the natural and easy thing to do.

We Christians have a faith that's based on peace and love.
   Still, we argue out its merits part by part.
Then accept it for its fairness, for this creed I'm speaking of
   seeks not to fill the hand but fill the heart.

Now, we're not a bunch of saints, but our principles are good
   (which is more than I can say for most of yours).
If we falter we recover, and by most it's understood
   that we lose a lot of sleep but seldom wars.

So you see if I am weak, there are others to uphold
   the tenets of a doctrine that is sound.
But with you it's "cart-before-----"; though you be both strong and bold,
   you serve principles that stand on shaky ground.

We shot you down this morning; I saw you wave a hand.
   I'm sure it could have just as well been me.
And I'd have made my exit for the love of fellow man.
   You did it for a man-made deity.



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