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As I cast my mind back to the first years of war
To the best times of my entire career as a chaplain
I am still filled with deep piety, with profound gratitude and awe
At the recollection of one remarkable, recurrent course of events Which shedding it's light came to pass in my workaday life
In those halcyon years

Warfare is rough play, as we all know
And in the manly and merciless martial turmoil surely all of us
Even the merest Negro, lowliest Japanese or Jew, everyone
Are equals in the sight of the same Gawd;
Indeed, I wish to stress this point! –

Well, as I was saying, it is with intense emotion
And profound humility that I recall those months of May
The days when the first ripe cherries would be fresh off the bough
And sitting there in the dull humdrum of the Officers' Mess
We would naturally be pleasantly diverted
By questions such as - would we like some cherries!

However, it became virtually a point of tradition
Hearing that innocent query rather more lusciously worded:
A couple of "Gerries"? How about some Gerries!
At this, and blushing almost openly
The officers would proceed to rape the waitresses in full view
And afterwards shoot them dead on the spot

And so, as the afflicted blood of these possessed women
Crimsoned the drab mess floor, my turn would come
To step forth and perform my own assignment
In this extraordinary, colorful drama –
Then those fallen souls laid to their last rest
Before the scorching pains of hellfire
We would fold our hands upon the familiar words
Of my esteemed colleague – the very words
That so frequently during my career
Have intrigued and succored me –
Inscrutable are the ways of the Lord...
And how could we mortals be expected
To mind and master every turn
A-men

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