My War is on the Ground Grunting

My war is on the ground grunting,

In jungles deep and dark trooping;

And this enemy I'm hunting

Is me - and there'll be no duping.

For it's upon this trail I've marched,

Slogging foot sore, wearing full gear;

And through the thick brush my throat parched,

I've given chase to all I fear.

And in the fire fights I have fought,

Pitched battles with weapons blazing;

Defying death and jungle rot,

All I've learned is most amazing.

Yes on the ground where I'm grunting,

In between fear and boredom caught;

I've learned battles not the hunting

Are the way to survive my thought.