They call me Enrita, I'm a young village girl, I'm in love with a fighting man from the New World. A year ago April they set up their camp, I was carrying water when I met my man. In a drab sea of green on the outside of town, Only stationed there briefly he'd said with a frown. But the days pa**ed to weeks, I fell quickly in love, With the good hearted trooper that I'm singing of. Where is my soldier? He is my life; he has my soul, And I have not seen him for six months or more. Where is my soldier? I am his wife; to him I belong, And I have not seen him for so very long. Has he died on a bayonet, have they run him through? Has a Kalashnikov rifle burst cut him in two? Is he now hanging limp on some rusted barbed wire? Has he been burned alive by the chemical fire? Was he sent to the front on a secret night raid? Have they switched his identity, his papers mislaid? Is he languishing hungry as a prisoner of war? In need of good medicine, broken and torn? Where is my soldier? He is my life; he has my soul, And I have not seen him for six months or more. Where is my soldier? I am his wife; to him I belong, And I have not seen him for so very long. Has he been shot on orders through the chain of command? For fleeing in the face of the enemy's brand. No that can't be right he's too brave and too proud. Must be missing for valiant reasons, somehow. There's just one more thing, one more nagging small doubt... Did he forget his new bride when his unit moved out? Well if so I hope he's alive, breaking hearts on a whim, For I'm a strong enough woman to hope this for him. Where is my soldier? He is my life; he has my soul, And I have not seen him for six months or more. Where is my soldier? I am his wife; to him I belong, And I have not seen him for so very long. And I have not seen him, I have not seen him, I have not seen him for so very long.