Through Parris gates that summer day,
Seventy strong, we marched in gray.
Older than most, I watched, aware,
Learn what I can’t and what I dare.

 

Those young men feared the path ahead,
Wishing they’d known how I had fled.
For them the war was weeks away,
Some would meet their end of days.

 

I asked for the Officer of the Day—
He asked me, “What morals do you obey?”
I wrote my thoughts in an honest line:
“Selfishness, sir, guides this life of mine.”

 

Four days later, I’m called to stand
Before the Commander, his XO at hand.
“If not the Bible, then tell me true—
How can the Corps be sure of you?”

 

I replied in a playful way,
“That’s easy, sir,” it’s clear as day,
“You’ll throw me in the brig, you see,
If I don’t do what you tell me.”

 

He smiled at that—he had to agree,
He could not command more loyalty.
I left as I came, my mind my own,
Following rules, yet on my throne.