When the call to arms first rang out
The young men came, most with fear
but none with doubt,
To the hills of Korea with dangers untold,
In summer heat, driving rain, bitter cold.
How many men, how many men.

The landing at Inchon, the flag raising at Seoul,
Through rice paddies and fields,
soon to hear the death knell.
The Chosin, the Yalu, strange names to their ears,
Our finest fought on gaining strength from their fears.
How many men, how many men.

The sounds of war, the sounds of dying,
Loud mortars whistling, soft moans and crying.
The hill is quiet and still tonight,
How many men were lost in the fight?
The lucky survived with a bond strong and clear
For the brothers they loved who are no longer here.

How many men, how many men!

Written by Jerry O'Hearn Meier
Wife of Kenneth Meier, F/2/1 - Korea

Mrs Meier wrote this poem in one sitting, one night when she couldn't go to sleep.
After writing it, she returned to bed and slept soundly the remainder of the night.

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