09/11/2025
They did not know the reason why,
The planes would roar across the sky,
A master’s call, a whistle blown,
And off they ran through lands unknown.
They carried words through shot and flame,
No fear could break their steady aim,
Messenger dogs, through smoke and wire,
They ran through hell, through mud and fire.
They searched for wounded in the rain,
Their paws fell soft on fields of pain,
With gentle teeth and patient eyes,
They pulled the fallen back to life.
As sentries through the endless night,
They stood where men had lost their sight,
They barked at shadows, sensed the wrong,
Their courage kept the weak hearts strong.
In mines and traps their noses led,
They walked where even angels dread,
Each step a gift, each breath a chance,
To keep their masters’ safe advance.
And when the guns fell still at last,
They lingered where the dying passed,
Beside the men who could not stand,
They laid their heads in trembling hands.
They did not know of hate or pride,
Of reasons why so many died,
They only knew one sacred law—
To love, to serve, to stand in awe.
So mark their names in silence deep,
Where loyal hearts forever sleep,
For though they never sought renown,
They wore the bravest kind of crown.
Lest we Forget
