Visions from hell
Robert
Kingston
From
Across the land into the Salient
Our brave men toed the ebbing line.
Through wire and mines,
Through mud and blood,
Through many men and horses shred.
Under sun and moon,
Through wet and flake,
Little rest they won as they fought,
The testing yards and inching mile.
The scent of death clear in their heads,
Their nostrils burning from hell resent,
Cauterised wounds some munition singed,
A deathly end for some,
Their eyes by night a blazing fired earth,
Of blues,
Their ears ringing whistles and drums,
A sense of looming dread
As all around the melee continued,
Death by death, Man by man, Son by son,
Precious sons many in numbers they did succumb
To the battle cry of walk not run.
Blood-curdling in their gas-filled lungs,
Fungi in their rotting boots,
Sweat and tears in itchy suits,
Muscles aching tendons taught,
Nerves for some as they were next
To mount and face the hidden land,
Where fate would deal its dreadful blow,
On to meet the dreaded wall of death.
Choice was none, no turning back,
They stood as force,
Though force would guide,
Those of fear or of wisdom stand,
Over, or rest
When shot by those on orders for descent.
© Robert Kingston 17.10.14
/ 27.3.16
Sassoon & Owen depicted the futility of a war, sanitised for the home front. As I write this I can hear a bugler playing the last post. As I read your words, I recall the sanitized newsreels of action, (Walk don't run). Poor bastards, so brave! Now with the distance of time, your words show the stark horror of war...
ReplyDeletePowerful poem depicting horror inflicted by stupidity.
ReplyDeleteWell Rob, let me firstly congratulate you on a poem that "shows" the true horror of war, especially WW1. It reads with good rhythm and has a poignant message in the last stanza. I would associate this poem with Owen's "Dulce Et Decoram Est" and Rosenberg's "Dead Man's Dump".
ReplyDeleteI agree entirely with the comments from both Len and Janet. Pat on the back mate.