Marching along the desert's field they walk
Passing the fallen; saluting them too
The most dangerous men they shall stalk
There is nothing for their country they won't do

Deafening song of bullets through the air
The privates long for their warm, loving home
The civilians pray to God and stare
Across various countries they have flown

The blood of comrades shall not be in vain
The battles, tiring; supplies depleted
After days of fighting, their muscles strain
Soldiers fight until their foe's defeated

As reward, they get a medal with chrome
When all they really want is to go home