The Man Without A Gun Poem by John F. McCullagh

He'd first seen war in Africa; again in Sicily.
He'd been present on the road to Rome
and was with our troops in France.
His columns and his articles told of our boys at war.
Sometimes funny, often poignant,
Ernie Pyle reported all he saw.

He went to the Pacific on a transport with Marines.
They were not yet hardened killers,
just a bunch of frightened teens.
Ernie had grave premonitions
But still he took the chance.
He never hid behind the lines-
With the boys he would advance.
He had to see his mission through
To end what he'd begun.
He'd endured five long years of war;
the man without a gun.

In April, nineteen forty five, he went forward in a jeep;
On the island of Ie Shima he had promises to keep.
He himself became the Headline before that day was done
A sniper's bullet found and killed the man without a gun.