I was once a buffalo Roaming the southwest plains I fought with pride and honor For a nation that kept me in chains Victorio and Geronimo knew me My brothers and I laid them low The tenacious fighting spirit Of a regiment of buffalo.
And on a distant Spanish isle I rallied to the bugle's call On the San Juan Heights of Cuba I watched my brothers fall With Teddy's boys we won that day We fought and bled the same Yet while the nation sings their praise Few remember the Buffalo names.
Through World War II and Viet Nam The mighty Tenth did ride Ready and forward in the saddle Behind guidons stained with pride Now on the sun-baked plains of Babylon A tyrant feels the sabers' slashing blow His evil empire crumbles fast Under the feet of Buffalo.
"I was once a buffalo," I will someday tell my sons With a dusty Stetson, shiny spurs, A steel horse and loaded guns My guidon snapping in the wind With crossed sabers on my shoulder Forever I am a Cavalryman But I once was a Buffalo Soldier.
1SG, G Troop, 10th Cavalry, 1st Brigade, 4th Infantry Division
August 2003 Operation Iraqi Freedom.
This poem is dedicated to Spc. James C. Wright, Spc. Richard Arriaga, and Sgt. Anthony O. Thompson of Stryker Platoon, Golf Troop, 10th Cavalry, 4th Infantry Division, Fort Hood, TX. These brave men lost their lives in an ambush in Tikrit, Iraq on 18 September 2003. The author, 1SG Taylor, returned from Iraq on 18 Sep 2003. First Sergeant Taylor is retiring after Twenty-three years service.
