Salute To The Medics

In the states we laughed at medics
Thought they rode the gravy train
Thought they only saw and never felt
The awful hurt and pain

But since we’ve been in action
We’ve a different point of view
We have to hand it to them
For the job that medics do

The infantry’s no picnic
It’s a hard and bloody game
It’s dangerous and its dirty
And it lacks the air crops fame

But the real unsung heroes
Are the guys who tag along
With the doughboys into battle
Just in case that things go wrong

I have watched them save a buddy
That I could have sworn was dead
I have seen them bring the wounded
Through a wall of solid lead

If a sniper hits your forearm
Makes a cut you hardly feel
Or a mortar blows beside you
And your guts are full of lead

The call goes down for medics
And you know they’ll get you through
For they always have the answer
Seem to know just what to do

Stop the bleeding, give you plasma,
Give you morphine, kill the pain,
Get you back to where the doctors
Can make you well again

When the bitter war is over
And the victory is won
There’ll be a million doughboys grateful
For the job that they have done

But perhaps they’ll never know it
‘ cause for words we’re at a loss
to praise the lads whose arm bands
bear the Red Geneva Cross.

By Philip O. Downing to PFC Alfred Piscitello, United States Army, Medical Corps, May 1944