In Quiet Of Night Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

That's when we were most vulnerable
in sleeping bags in foxholes
deep in the Ardennes
that Christmas Eve
when the night erupted
in fire and terror
as they launched
the first assault

Of the dogfaces who survived
that first day and the weeks after-
we few, we proud, we chosen from
the American mob to do our duty
then and now in the sands of Iraq
stand in awe at the ignorance
of fellow Americans today-

Walt Whitman, where are you now
when we need your guidance and that of
Father Abraham to help us stand fast?