Of all the boys with whom I fought <br />In Africa and Sicily, <br />Bill was the bravest of the lot <br />In our dare-devil Company. <br />That lad would rather die than yield; <br />His gore he glorified to spill, <br />And so in every battlefield <br />A hero in my eyes was Bill. <br /> <br />Then when the bloody war was done, <br />He moseyed back to our home town, <br />And there, a loving mother's son, <br />Like other kids he settled down. <br />His old girl seemed a shade straight-laced, <br />For when I called my buddy "Bill," <br />She looked at me with some distaste, <br />Suggesting that his name was "Will." <br /> <br />And then he had to get engaged, <br />And took unto himself a wife; <br />And so inevitably caged, <br />He settled down to wedded life. <br />He introduced me to his Missis, <br />But oh I thought her rather silly, <br />For in between their frequent kisses <br />She called my hard-boiled here: "Willie." <br /> <br />Now he has long forgot the War, <br />The which he did a lot to win, <br />And feeling full of ginger for <br />He's happy Pop of cherubs twin. <br />Yet with his air: "Don't care a damn," <br />On Main Street he's my hero still . . . <br />As proud he wheels a double pram <br />What guy has got the guts of Bill!<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-hero-3/
