20 parts Complete MatureBorn to the wind on an Iowa plain,
Where the cornfields sway and whisper names,
He came of age as the world went dark,
With fire in his soul and a patriot's heart.
December skies in '41-
Pearl was struck, and the world undone.
On the very day he turned eighteen,
He signed his name, joined the machine.
Not for glory or a flag unfurled-
But to fight the evil in the world.
From the Seventh to the Seventy-First,
He carried a weight that only grew worse.
Busted down for a righteous blow-
A brother in arms laid low for woe.
He saw a girl-young, Black, and scared,
And struck the one who didn't care.
Not all battles are waged with guns-
Some are fought when the right's undone.
Son of Alfred, soldier and shield,
Who fought in France, then walked the beat,
Whose badge gave law, whose cancer stole-
Allman bore that father's soul.
Elaine, his mother, soft but steel,
Taught him how to stand and feel.
He marched through Europe's shattered bones,
With dreams of home and gravel roads.
Brothers in arms, some lost, some saved-
He buried many, dug many graves.
But never did he lose his grip
On what was just, or let it slip.
Klink-a name from the Prussian line,
Now forged in stars and battle signs.
He carried old blood, and a newer creed:
That no man should suffer for another's greed.
So raise a glass to Iowa's son-
Who fought for peace with fists and guns.
The war may end, but tales still link
The strength and fire of Allman Klink.