Saint-Mihiel

nothin like Oklahoma, this miserable scrap of land somewheres in northern France
it weren’t much bigger than Choteau, but them German fellers wanted it awful bad
the French fellers called it Saint-Mihiel, named after some saint, I didn’t care none being a dedicated Baptist

them generals told us this place was mighty important and we needed to push them huns back,
end the war and go home
lordy I wanted to be back in Mayse,
set down with mama and daddy, tell em about all the places I’d seen, spare em the things I’d done
I’d see Hattie too if she’d still have me, she’d cried so when they put that uniform on me

spose it was sometime round the middle of September, we was fixin to get in an awful big scrap
them boys sittin in the trench, covered in mud, waitin for the whistle to run like Hell
they just set me behind a machine gun, just had to shoot the fellers running at us

come nighttime we’d just lob shells, gas at each other hoping to hit something,
screams lettin us know if we did
a whole mess of them landed near me and I got really lucky,
a bit of shrapnel the size of a nickel found its way into my leg

it hurt something fierce before the docs yanked it out
given me some of em pain pills and lettin me be
it didn’t bother me none after that
needin the bed for folks in a much worse way, they sent me off, told me to take it easy
found me some rottin steps and set down, rollin a cigarette the way the frenchies did
mama would be disappointed to see me here smokin, but it was darn near the best thing i’d had in weeks
some boy from New York started hollerin about mail and I heard my name

pretty as a peach, a clean yeller envelope,
addressed to Mr LW Prescott 344th machine gun battalion
holdin it up and smellin it, didn’t care none what people thought,
sittin in all that mud and dust, was the only pretty thing round
openin it carefully, holdin it like it were made of glass,
tryin to read that girls handwritin, always a chore
folks were good, farm was doin well, sissy was bein courted by some lawyer from Pryor Creek
she still had the ring, she was still waitin for me,
I leaned back and smiled