The trumpets called the battle cries
But it was the young men that died.
Waved off by sisters, mothers, lovers
United in the call to arms as brothers.
In trenches wet and dugouts damp
Up to their knees in mud they sank.
No matter if they had foot-rot
It mattered not when they were shot.
Plagued with lice and vermin, rats,
Some as big as bloody cats.
The howling barrage thundered in
A Dante`s Hell, infernal din.
Screaming shrapnel, fountained earth,
A few yards gained of human worth.
Over the top at sound of whistle
Signal for incoming missiles.
Machine guns rattle rat,tat,tat,
Advancing lines are hammered flat.
Some caught up on tangling wire
Bodies jerk at raking fire.
Worse of all to lose a limb
A burden then for kith and kin.
Chlorine gas in rolling clouds
Bodies wrapped in deathly shrouds.
At home the flags were waving, bold
In Flanders, bodies growing cold.
Fight for country, king and honour.
Tomorrow likely you`re a gonner.
Author notes
Not old enought to have served during 1914/18, but old enough to remember the limbless virtually begging in the streets in the 20`s, selling matches and bootlaces for coppers in the `land fit for heroes.` "Bless you Marm."
In a list
A contest entry
- Hohenlinden (For fans of war poems and epic poetry) by Vagabond.
525 points, ended May 24, 2007, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - PRO-PEACE ANTI-WAR CONTEST by Revwilliamfoos.
1500 points, ended May 17, 2007, 38 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - WW1 Poetry by Kill The Kaiser.
300 points, ended August 24, 2007, 12 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Describe WWII by lukes.
490 points, ended July 17, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Troops are always welcomed and honored while the war rages on. But after its over. You are forgotten.
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Very dark and deathly. Nice, Well done and good luck in the contest
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a good dark and twisting piece of poetry that sets the tone of the poem right away, one can feel the atmosphere breathing down one's neck.
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Good job.
This certainly tells it like it is (or was). The heroes of those wars are always forgotten after the guns stop firing. You've done them proud.
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From what I've read and learned you have it down pat here William. As I reached the line about barbed wire I instantly has a vision of a photograph I saw in my Oldpoetry research of a man dangling on the wire, shot dead, how dreadful for his comrades to have to leave him there for fear they too would be shot.
this is the picture I saw reading your words too.
~~
On a lighter note - let me know when you're dead and I'll post this on Oldpoetry for you :))Von
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Very sad, but so very true. I am not old enough to remember from my own experiences, but I have read, and the stories are forever burnt into my mind. You capture the haunting reality very well.
~Amanda
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