The Ballad of: Brawling Mad-dog Sergeant Rook [Now in: SPANISH and English]

English Version

A bunch of us guys in the hut

In ?Nam
Were playing cards, singing songs;
In a solo-room, back of the hut
Lay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;

And watching from a distance
Was his sidekick, Corporal Cook.

When out of the night, he wanted

To fight
This bully of six-foot-two
Dog-drunk, smelling like a skunk

I wanted to fight him too.

He wobbled like a duck as I

Blocked his punch-

(for I was drunk too),
And I kicked him several times

I guess-
Yet he didn't fall, as expected
This Sergeant I barely knew?

There was no man, could beat

This bear of a brut,
In our company, or there about
So I kicked him in the groin

Again-
And still he didn't shout!

And such was I, as he looked

At me
Puzzled from brow to foot
He was a demon from hell I

Thought
This mad-dog Sergeant Rook.

With the face of bulldog

And a deadly stare
I swear he was three hundred

Pounds;
I twisted my body like a cobra
Jumped in the air like a bird

And when I came down
The blaze in his eyes were gone

This mad-dog Sergeant Rook!

I pierced my fingers into his flesh
Like nails and thorns-with

Ferociousness?
Then I moved from side to side

A bit
As he swayed like a tree in a storm
Clutching the side of the hut

I guess;
We both knew, we wanted no more.

In echoes he cursed insanities-

As his sidekick cheered him on
But for he and I, the game was

Over
It was back to war, in Vietnam!...

Note: 699 5/31/05

Spanish Version

La Balada de :
la Pelea del perro rabioso Sargento Rook.

Un grupo de nosotros los muchachos en la choza

En ?Nam
Jugábamos a las cartas, cantando canciones;
En un cuarto solo, atrás de la choza
Sargento Rook, Puso al perro rabioso,

Y mirando desde una distancia
Estaba su compañero, el cabo Cocinero.

Cuando hacia fuera de la noche, él quiso

Luchar
Este matón " de seis pie dos "
perro borracho, oliendo como un zorrillo

desee lucharlo también también.

Él se bamboleó como un pato asì, yo
bloquee su puñete-

(por que yo también estaba borracho),
Y le di de patadas varias veces

Prienso-
Màs el no se cayò como esperaba.
Este Sargento yo, apenas lo conocía ?

No había ningún hombre, que podría golpear

Este oso de un brut,
En nuestra compañía, o por allí
Entonces le di patadas en la ingle

Otra vez-
¡Y de todos modos él no gritó!

Y tal era yo, como él miró

En mí
Dejado perplejo de frente a pie
Él era un demonio del infierno

yo Pienso
Este sargento Rook perro rabioso.

Con la cara de bulldog

Y un mirada fija mortal
Juro que él tenía trescientas

Libras;
Torcí mi cuerpo como una cobra
saltè en el aire como un pajaro

Y cuando bajé
El resplandor en sus ojos se habian ido.

¡Este Sargento Rook perro rabioso!

Perforé mis dedos en su carne
Como uñas y espinas- con

Ferocidad ?
Entonces me moví un poco
de un lado al otro
Como él se balanceó como un árbol en una tormenta
Agarrando el lado de la choza

Adivino;
Ambos sabíamos, no quisimos más.

En ecos él maldijo locuras-

Como su compañero lo alentó
Pero para él y para mi el juego había acabado

¡Esto fuè tras de La guerra, en Vietnam!...

Note: 699 5/31/05

Poet/Author Dennis Siluk, produces a ballad of Vietnam, an occurance, where more truth resides than fiction. The Author lives in St. Paul, Minnesota and Lima, Peru; and was a soldier in the Vietnam war

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