A soldier’s lot…

A soldier’s lot…

Nothing prepares you…

Not really,

No matter what you do

So much is left to chance.

It is the randomness

That makes a fool

Of us all.

Even now

Looking back at the chaos

Of lost souls

Going about their lives

Running into each other

Barely recognising

Themselves in the

Startled reflections

They see in each other’s eyes.

I realise

Any one of them

Could be me.

If only my grip

Had been a little stronger

I might have held on longer,

Stood firmer

And not fallen into this pit.

Or was I pushed… hit

It is all a bit of a blur

And the ground

Underfoot was slick with

Shit and mud

Coloured by the blood

Of the fallen…

And it shifted,

This way and that.

Every time I changed direction

Dodging a bullet,

Trying to keep alive

By staying out of the

Firing line

Too frightened to stand still

I still want to move,

But it is difficult

To get a response

From any of my commands

And I can feel nothing

But what might be

The drying of my tears.

Not that I remember crying…

Dad would be ashamed

Big boys and all that...

Even the crunch of boots

As people mill around

Pushing me deeper into the

Rat infested interior

Fails to register,

Although I believe

Somebody may just

Have stood on my face.

For some reason

My eyes still work

And I am thankful for it.

God knows why

There is nothing

I really want to see

And they will not move

No matter how hard I try.

The darkness is deepening

It must be getting close to

Lights out…

I could just do a nice cup of tea

And a mince pie…

Gosh I think

That might be my mother

I can hear her singing…

Jerusalem…

It must be Sunday.

She will be telling me

To get off to sleep…

School tomorrow…

How boring is that

Golly…I can’t wait

To grow up

And join the army

See more of the world

Make something

Of my life…

Get away from this stinking

Dead and alive hole…