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Maggie's Drawers
by James Stockton
A hundred Marines sat on the line,
Rapid fire, and all was fine.
The rifles cracked, Bull's Eyes, we know;
Down came the targets, now they'll show.
White spotters adorned targets left and right,
Looked like snow, a pretty sight.
But Wait!!!! What's that where I shot?
Not a single one! . . . not one white spot.
I look for black ones 'round the "bull,"
No luck there either, I feel a chill.
They start the disks, white for bulls,
None for mine . . . there they were still.
A single pole rose o'er the butts
Waved back and forth, like in a rut.
A red flag waving, a miss of course,
And that red flag is "Maggie's Drawers."
Suddenly a commotion is heard on line,
I thought, "My coach, and it's my time."
But a good-lookin' dame comes down the track:
"My name is Maggie — and I wants 'em back."
__________________
"We were wrong, terribly wrong. (We) should not have tried to fight a guerrilla war with conventional military tactics against a foe willing to absorb enormous casualties...in a country lacking the fundamental political stability necessary to conduct effective military and pacification operations. It could not be done and it was not done."
- Robert S. McNamara
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"We will take our napalm and flame throwers out of the land that scarcely knows the use of matches...
We will leave you your small joys and smaller troubles."
- Eugene McCarthy in "Vietnam Message"
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never wrestle with a pig.
you both get dirty;
the pig likes it.
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