The following was published in the 1 Sept 1944 issue of Yank under the section "The Poets Cornered."
MAN OF THE YEAR
And I will walk through the night unseen, unheard—walk through dark avenues where shadows dart and fade;
And I will be followed by many more walking —walking through crumbling cities, past many a gutted church and smashed facade.
Stumbling through mangled fields and -shredded trees, wrapped in heavy mist, grope the forgotten and the broken.
Sing the wind and the rain, tell our lonely tale in the night, write on the scarred and tortured earth our token,
For we are the earth, we are the sand of Tarawa, the rich loam of Sorrento and the red clay of Tunisia.
We felt the cool spray on coral reefs and the hot sun of Africa's wadies, and we saw the spires of Rome come nearer.
And yet once more this earth, this loam shall feel the plowmarf's hand, and wheat shall rise,
And once more the builder shall touch his brick and steel, and cities shall reach the skies;
And we the shadows, who walked in the night through dark avenues broken, and forgotten, shall rise, too.
We shall enrich the wheat and our souls shall strengthen the spires and we shall encourage the true,
And we shall leave the dark mangled fields as silently as we came, past gutted churches and reddened rivers.
And where we walked the sun shall bathe many towns and fresh green fields, and we will live forever.
— Pvt. DAVIS H. MARKOE
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