Sleep well soldier, your duty done,
You need no longer fire your gun,
And fight no more, O wayward soul,
May war no longer take its toll,
Wait for your unit at the pearly gates,
Carrying the standard of fifty states,
You'll find your brothers hand in hand,
Walking t'ward the promised land.
Why must we put men through ordeals such as these, for the sake of an old man's pride?
-Penguin
