Tight narrative poem from a 'new' soldier's point of view
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My Haunting Shame… There’s threat of war, my commodore; I’m waiting your command. I’ve will to fight for what is right - God save the Fatherland! I’ll stand and kill! Their blood will spill for freedom of Mankind. Just wait and see, I guarantee! I’ve locked it in my mind. We’re on our way! We left midday for places near the sun. Excitement grows, adrenaline flows! There’s no comparison. We’ll leap through air, catch unaware the enemy within. I gasp and wait for the mandate to jump, with discipline. Geronimo! And off I go. My God! They’re shooting shells! I’m coming down like some damn clown! My apprehension swells. I hit the ground and make no sound. I listen for a clue of where to go to get below the guns… What shall I do? Thank God! A hole! Just like a mole I dig myself in deep. I take a breath; the stench of death wisps by…I start to weep. Who’d ever think to smell such stink could nauseate this way? But burning flesh does now refresh my mind -- this is not play. I hear a voice... Should I rejoice? Or could it be the foe? I listen hard and then bombard with bullets high and low. He comes toward me in agony, then falls and hits the dirt. His pleading eyes and groans and sighs proves he is really hurt! I feel bad, I can’t be sad. The enemy should die! He’s just a boy... I can’t enjoy his misery – I cry. I’ve got to aid! I can’t evade the pain that I produce. My help he needs, from my misdeeds. So I declare - a truce. I bravely run, I leave my gun, and drag him to my hole. He looks half-dead! His body’s red. I smile to console. He’s in such pain – God, war’s insane! How can I help this lad? What can I do to ease him through? He looks at me, so sad… While drifting off he starts to cough up blood - and then he dies. I stare at him, my heart grows dim… His death just horrifies! I killed a man! That was the plan, but now to see his face! One cannot teach to kill with speech - God’s glory, I disgrace. I stroke his brow; and then I vow to him, "I’ll kill no more!" You were the first, and now I’m cursed! Forgive me! I implore. Man’s biggest sin has always been the need to kill and maim. I’ve learned first-hand to take a stand. I’ll share my haunting shame. It is my hope that all can cope if forced to stand and fight… It takes strong will to make a kill. I’ve not the appetite. |