The Mighty Filberts: Music

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In 1968 my husband, Frank, was in the National Guard. He joined the Guard because he objected to the war and wanted to stay state side. He found himself in bootcamp in Fort Sill in Layton, Oklahoma with the boys who were there for the regular army. There he met a tall, lanky, red haired boy who didn't share his objections to the war. This poor boy from Kentucky had never had a bed of his own and regular meals. He told Frank that it was the "best job he had ever had". This is his story:

A red haired boy from Tennessee
in '68, an enlistee;
a refugee from poverty,
a bible in his hands.
He had no job, his folks were poor,
his curly locks lay on the floor
but he'd been promised so much more
than he had ever had.


With new boots and three squares a day;
Clean sheets, he was happy to stay.
His own bed and regular pay,
He marched with his new boots on.


Some boys ran and some deferred
and some fought back with spoken word
but a red haired boy was undeterred
he was someone now.
But underneath a foreign sky
a red haired boy was shot and died.
He never even wondered why
he laid his own life down.


For new boots and three squares a day;
clean sheets, he was happy to stay.
His own bed and regular pay,
he died with his new boots on.


A dark haired boy from Kentucky
in 2006, an enlistee;
a refugee from poverty
here we go again.


For new boots and three squares a day
clean sheets, he was happy to stay.
His own bed and cafe ole
He died with his new boots on.
Here we go again.
He died with his new boots on.