The soldier stood and faced our God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass

"Step forward now you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek,
And to my church been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

"I've had to work most Sundays
And at times my talk was tough
And sometimes I've been violent
Because the streets were awfully rough.

"But I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills just got too steep,

"And I never passed a cry for help
Although, at times I shook with fears
And sometimes, please forgive,
I've wept unmanly tears.

"I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fear.

"If you have a place for me here, O Lord
It needn't be so grand
I've never expected, or had so much
But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne
Where the Saints had often trod
As this soldier waited quietly
For the judgment from our God.

"Step forward now you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."

---

To all that have served;
SSG. P. T. Pack
(The Ol'Kunnel gratefully acknowledges
this submission from Michael M. Schmieg.
It was slightly edited by the Kunnel himself.)