REASONS
As the whistles blew and the bullets cracked.
We tried to run, but the mud was thick,
While those who breathed gas coughed and hacked.
Was it only twenty minutes of real time,
Or hours that seemed to pass and go
Before we returned to our holes.
Never once catching sight of our grey-clad foe.
It was like waking from a dread dream,
Or more a waking nightmare.
When we looked and counted our dead.
Would our leaders and commanders even care?
For us that came home again;
The hale, the crippled and the lame.
We were hailed and feted, promised rewards,
As though we had completed some great game.
We prayed that conflict was over
And that this war had ended war.
The swords would be ploughshares
And maybe we had learned to fight no more.
When we stopped to reflect and think
About our reasons for marching to war.
We looked at each other and shrugged,
Cast our eyes at the floor.
Ashamed to admit we had no answer
The jingoism, the white feathers, our pride.
None of these seemed to be right.
“O Lord, why?” We cried.
Over the years that passed since that November
We came to understand and find
That our purpose was more than we knew.
Certainly for us and our kind.
We fought to remain free and stand tall,
When the world headed into darkness.
There was a need for ordinary heroes
Whose thoughts and deeds would be selfless.
We, the ordinary and plain.
We, the soldiers that went where we must.
And became the bearers of hope and faith.
And believed our cause was just.
Friend and foe alike in thought,
We cannot now hate or forget.
We all fought for what we believed.
In comradeship now we are met.
Laurence Cutner
November, 2009




Recent Comments