I once met a war veteran, aged 102 who had fought in both world war 1 and world war 2. Before meeting him, I had always glamourized the thought of war-probably through reading too many romantic war novels and regularly hearing all the nostalgic old war songs like Vera Lynn's,' we'll Meet Again' and Glenn Miller's 'Don't Sit Under the apple Tree. And there is no doubt that living through wars there was some fun times as well as bad. however looking into this mans eyes even without even mentioning the topic of war, I began to realise that fighting in battle was not fun or nostalgic but ugly, horrifying and tragic. Here is my poem in honour of the man I briefly met but will always remember.
The smell of metal and sunken eyes caked in dread
Corned beef tins playing Russian roulette
Gaps in your teeth and your rotting feet
A quagmire of defeat
Go away Mamby!
The smell of metal! It bothers me
Phallic shaped clouds and mushroom shaped helmets
Every dawn is dusk and every dusk is dawn
Blood and bowels mingled together
Go away Mamby!
Grey clouds are kinder than the sun
Childs limbs hidden in trees like blossom
The projectile vomiting of my dreams
The worse day
Go away Mamby
About the Creator
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