I was never a leader.
A coward, I always sought to flee.
Retreats were never merely tactical for me.
But alas I have a terrible sense of direction.

Fleeing rapidly out the back,
I got lost and ended up at the front.
Brave men were fighting there against all odds,
Until they saw me running toward the foe.

They were cheered by my courage
And rushed into the breach,
Glad to follow a real leader
Whose terrified scream sounded like a battle cry.

When I saw the hostile troops,
I turned at once
To seek a quick escape
In what perhaps looked to be a feint to fool the foe.

I got spun around anew.
Running in the direction of what I thought was home,
I came upon the enemy’s reinforcements rushing in.
Half my cadre followed me and easily won the day.

I ran off as fast I could, but was soon adrift again.
At last I heard shouts of victory and joy,
And was hailed a returning hero as I magically appeared,
Lost and back where I had started from.

There the troops were regimented
To salute a leader bold and brave,
To give me a medal for finding the way
As I asked for directions from the fray.