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Show Private Pat MacClave By Edwin Miller He never won a trophy; He never ran a mile; He never got an A mark, But he always wore a smile. He wasn't any glamour boy; A hero he was not. But to me, I want to tell you, He really was a lot. He never wore a zoot suit; And his hat was just a hat. You knew he was an Irishman, His name was just plain Pat. Corregidor was where Pat died, A bullet was his fate; For when it came attack time He didn't stop and wait Though he didn't live a hero. He died one just the same. ' And because he died a hero Eternal is his fame. I'm glad to say I knew the one Who fought and died so brave. He'll live with me forever. That friend called Pat MacClave. |
