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Robert W Service - Decorations
Work rating: Medium

My only medals are the scars
I`ve won in weary, peacetime wars,
A-fighting for my little brood,
To win them shelter, shoon and food;
But most of all to give them faith
In God`s good mercy unto death.

My sons have medals gleaming bright,
Proud trophies won in foreign fight;
But though their crosses bravely shine,
My boys can show no wounds like mine -
Grim gashes dolorously healed,
And inner ailings unrevealed.

Life-lasting has my battle been,
My enemy a fierce machine;
And I am marked by many a blow
In conflict with a tireless foe,
Till warped and bent beneath the beat
Of life`s unruth I own defeat.

Yet strip me bare and you will see
A worthy warrior I be;
Although no uniform I`ve worn,
By wounds of labour I am torn;
Leave their ribbands and their stars . . .
Behold! I proudly prize my scars.
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