“A Stranger and Alone”
by PFC John M. Behm (1944)
We are the insolent invaders with many uniforms
Who have come to England
Bringing gifts of chewing gum and Chesterfields
We are the harsh strangers—the vain, hearty foreigners,
The aliens thoughtlessly trampling your calm vineyards.
The slim colored boys send our heavy trucks
Screaming along your narrow roads.
The big tanks rip up the pavings
Of your ancient towns.
The jeeps and weapons carriers
Do fifty-five around your Z-shaped curves.
The half-tracks hold your traffic up for hours.
The countryside rings
With the blare and whirl of our machines.
We are loud and fast and wild and lusty.
We are drunken, proud, hard, and potent.
We could drink your island dry if you would let us.
We are the terrible, mischievous warriors
From far away.
We are, I’m afraid,
Just a little bestial
For your highly tempered tastes.
But England
Understand us!
Though we sneer and boast in the pubs,
Consuming your beer and belittling your glory,
We tremble and are afraid in the streets
Before the blind audience of closed doors.
We are young men whose roots
Have been left far behind
In strange places called Brooklyn and Sacramento
We have been torn from the soil where we grew
And flung like exiles across an ocean
To a land we never dreamed of.
We are bewildered and weary,
Lonely to the point of madness,
And if we shout and curse
Through our quiet dreams,
Forgive us.
We are merely looking for a way to go home.
