Mess cooks rise with the sun
to prepare breakfast for the troops
Company B preferred above all
SOS on Sunday mornings
Okinawa in the winter
was mild for southern Japan
Chopped beef on toast
warmed us for the day
Wise guys and old hands
called it Shit on a shingle
We relished it no matter
the name - SOS!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem