"I've got you don't worry just hold on for me it won't be long,"
As shells still sound around us and I get my direction wrong,
Hurrying one way and then the next in all my worried panic,
Forgetting I'm a soldier but yet some defensive reactions stick.
I don't even feel the weight of a loving comrade in my arms,
Just keep worrying about the open wound and his harms,
I'm no medic but I know his glazed expression can't be good,
He's losing the will to hold on with the loss of all this blood.
I keep talking to him and shouting and demanding he stay awake,
If not for himself then his family and even for my own sake,
He means more to me than I ever cared to admit in public,
I'd sooner share a hurt and endure the damage than see him sick.
But he took the bullet for me and I admit I'd do that for him,
Fear is written all over my face but not for the place we're in,
Just for his safety and getting through this to the other side,
The love I have for this guy is so great I almost now cried.
Yet I hold it in and buckle down and dig deeper for my strength,
There's nothing I wouldn't do and for his life I'd go to any length,
And the chopper comes down in a tornado of wind and dirt,
They rush out to take him and I'd only give him to healers of hurt.
Then in the hospital as I'm searching for my buddy's bed,
I see a stretcher being brought in with a guy I thought was dead,
Yet another man is holding his hand trying to keep up too,
Whilst a paramedic staunches a wound
seeping a stain that grew.
A nurse shows them a way and I hear people waiting in a queue,
Saying," How d'ya like that, they let the faggots straight through,"
And I turn and watch several others all nod and grumble to agree,
Then it's like an internal grenade goes off deep inside of me.
These are the people I fight to protect who'd let a life gladly go,
If it didn't match their silly standards or they didn't care to grow,
These are the souls we defend against their unseen enemy,
But this time they face one of their own and it's gonna be me.
I step up and face six guys who look like they've been in a brawl,
My uniform declaring don't mess with me and my stance says it all,
I look them straight in the eyes and speak loud enough to be heard,
Trying to keep as calm as I can thinking on every firm word.
"Sirs you make me sad, I'm ashamed you have no compassion,
Love is still love between people whether or not it's of passion,
I pity your colleagues and friends or all of your family too,
If they lack the courage to express their love or if they think like you!"
And I left there not in a hurry but not wishing to start a fight,
Just trying to make amends for these bigots and put it right,
I found my sargeant's room and saw all the monitors there,
Felt sick to my stomach about those guys but shouldn't really care.
You see I had come to realise love has many intensities and ways,
But it lives in our hearts forever until the end of our days,
And whether it be lover or friend, a relative, child or other,
We still need to feel it, show it and nurture it even to a brother.
So I held his hand and talked to him and chatted as friends do,
And in a while he woke up grinning and wasn't ashamed too,
As he started bragging about how he took a bullet for a mate,
He squeezed my hand tightly as our wives arrived a little late.
That week I took those guys some flowers by means of apology,
I prayed those people would change so they weren't just from me,
Treat others with respect and kindness and you won't be far wrong,
Not all battles are fought in the field they are waged all day long.