Corpsman! Corpsman! Was the Cry,
Up would Jump some Crazy Guy.

They’d Run across Hailing Fire,
to Save a Life is his Desire.

Explosions, Gun Shots and Tough Terrain,
Corpsmen Ignore it, it’s how they Train.

They Breathe Life back into those Lungs,
as their Fingers hold down a Bloody Tongue.

How many times did they not Survive,
as he keeps on Working with Tears in his Eye.

What’s going on inside his Head,
he keeps on Working and his Brother is Dead.

He wont giving-up, he Shakes his Head,
Training takes over and he saves the Dead.

That Soldier was lying there with out any Life,
now he’s going home to see his Wife.

His wounds were life threatening but he didn’t Die
he keeps Working til he Hears that Cry.

Corpsman! Corpsman! I’ve been hit,
he gets in there, he wont Quit.

He runs around through-out the Fight,
making sure that were all right.

He stops the Bleeding and Patches you Up,
gives you a Drink from his Canteen Cup.

He Escorts Wounded to the Medavac Choppers,
he’s got-em patched up Good and Proper.

You take the Pills that he hands out,
to stop Malaria with out a Doubt.

He’s a Fighting Machine in a Fight,
it makes no difference if its Day or Night.