Reflections of My Perceptions
They Called Me Settamoony!
With time, their faces became familiar
And they were quite comfortable with mine
We shared jokes and exchanged cultures
Someone always played the role of translator
Yet none were needed to decipher our laughter
In this regard our language was common
So many, I could not learn all their names
But I did as best I could, in my unaccustomed tongue
Ali , Mahmoud, Hamoud, Kareem, Mohammed
These were a few amongst so many others
The only thing constant was the continual shuffle
Sand bags to fill, they willingly shoveled
Their garments to us seemed disheveled
$10 a day was a lot more than Saddam would have suffered
So though meager to us GIs, the Iraqis were not bothered
While in Iraq, ‘civilian escort' was my favorite duty
They liked me too, so they called me Settamoony!
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They Called Me Settamoony!
They Called Me Settamoony!
