re: #222 Gus

The Marines’ Hymn

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I’m afraid every time I hear The Marine’s Hymn I hear the Mad Magazine version of the lyrics they did, um, 45 years ago, approximately.

Ahem.

From the neck high mud of foxholes,
to malaria filled bogs.
We will march for ninety miles a day,
then drop out and die like dogs.
We will land on mine strewn beaches.
We will live with snakes and fleas.
Then we’ll all leave Parris Island,
for restful combat overseas.

What can I say? I lived a somewhat demented childhood.