A FEW "GOOD MEN"

This story is about a "few good men,"
who went overseas and came back again.
no, we weren't marines, we wore Air Force blue,
just a few short years after World War Two.

We weren't the greatest but we sure weren't the worst,
the name of our group was the "Old 41st."
We were Air Force men but we weren't really fliers,
The frauleins called us "fleiger mensch meirs."

In later years we changed our name,
but it didn't alter the name of the game.
We played and we partied, but we also worked hard,
just a short stone's throw from the Russian's back yard.

We were sent there to listen, to hear every sound,
of a war in the making in the air or the ground.
No, we didn't do battle, and we don't have scars,
except maybe from some brawls we had in the bars.

Just a group of "good men" who were unusually bright,
who monitored the world through the day and the night.
To perhaps warn our nation, whether or not,
a war remains cold or turns decidedly hot.

Now there was Ron and Don, a Smitty and a Teddy,
and if I'm not mistaken, a few called Eddie.
A Charlie, a Bill, and several named Mac.
And yes, there were some that didn't come back

There was Sam and Jim, and Tex and Hank,
and we cared for each other regardless of rank.
And I was one of the selected few,
who had the honor to wear Air force blue.

Would I do it again? I'll say it out loud:
"You bet your butt, and I'd do it proud!"
With one exception, and I'll say this again:
"ONLY IF IT IS WITH THOSE SAME 'GOOD MEN'!"

"Mac" '98