January 2008

[Michael Johnson]

Ozzie, great work! A similar theme, but not so starkly tragic, occurs in Marie Lynn Hammond's song "Flying/Spring of '44", lyrics here. Part of them run:

it was spring again when I went to meet his train

they sent him home a hero

with medals and that look in his eyes

and a cane –

I hardly knew him

and most nights he’d wake up shaking and scared

but he’d never tell me

what he was seeing

[Ozzie]

Thanks people.

Micheal it makes you think, those few lines, of how many soldiers spent and spend the rest of their nights on earth, revisiting those terrible times.

[ypres1418]

Kim, i have just read your post and i could see that young girl, sense the fear and feel the emotion!

That was a fantastic piece,

(*note to self, must try harder*) but then it wasn't me writing it or was it!

Mandy

[59165]

Daves january effort.

Last knockin's

The boy had been in france for nearly a year.He had seen all the hatred that each side could throw at each other & had let it meld into his psyche in a way that only an old soldier could have done.Nothing much worried him any more.Hed just adapted too well,gas,flames,arty & 'live target bayonet practise',hed never shirked & the grown ups had named him,fearless Fred,strange choice for a jeremy he'd thought.

In the early weeks he'd been called a mascot by the 'elders'but now,november 18,hed consoled men of 40 yrs of age in the way a father would,such was his enlistment into the ranks of adulthood.

& then this,still grasping the cold hand of Lt. Woods,he saw nothing,felt nothing....buried alive,perhaps his one soul fear.

It had to be that,after all the luck,the one thing he feared most.Buried without the words of a priest spoken over his final resting place.He would go to hell or limbo,he was sure.

The soil muffled his senses but the clear words cut him like the coiled wire some feet above him.

"So,your here at last."

Resignation had long overtaken the boy.

"We've seen you round these parts & wondered if the 'lucky' thing was true?"spoke the voice.

It played a trick on his hearing,on his left ,behind his head,in his head?

A falsetto voice joined to something deeper,more menacing than a growling bear.

"We dont catch many children in this spot".He could feel the smile.

No fear.

"I'm not a f**kin kid,you stupid Boche b*****d,i'm 16 now & your not getting a decent conversation outa me this fine day."struggling to control both breathing & temper,he heard the response,

"The days long gone,like your friend there".Again,the 'felt' smile.He tried but could only half move the Lt's hand in his.Thinking,'Well,hes had a good innings,the Lt.Came from the ranks so he knew it was due.'His silent epitaph.

"Indeed he did,but do you?" STRANGE that he had read his thoughts?Had he spoken them aloud?more anger than fear in his voice now,

"Oh talkin bout death is so bloody germanic,if i suffocate here,itll help no end,gettin rid of your stupid poxy questions".

"So,you wish to die,is it that,little one?"

"Not before I've strangled you ye maudling shyte!"

A bark of a laugh,cold in response.

"I see you are well named,'Fearless Fred,hah."

Was this the LP bunker/trench that he knew to be in NML?His custodian seemed to know a lot about him.

"So,death holds no fear for you then,little hero?"

"Seen it,done it many times, due dates all i didnt know.Now i do,hah."A laugh of bravado,just to spite.

"There is much about death that you know nothing of...yet.The many means of passing for example.Your Lt. there went quickly.Look at your feet..."

He moved his head & saw the blurred outline of the Lt's. head,down by his own twisted feet.

He looked at his captor for the first time in the depressive gloom.

Small & dark in the shadows,hidden by a blackness that he'd mistaken for being buried,several skulls in a pile at his feet,he was nothing much to behold to the boy/man.

"And your just gonna leave 'im lying there?After all the good he did?The lives he saved?You fuckin' maggot",he spat,tried to move towards his foe,the killing lust upon him.

"Quiet,little one.No need for childish pranks.You know it will be a waste of effort against me."A cackle,filthy as the dirt.

"Well help me loose you midget b*****d & you'll see what use i can be,COME ON!!!"

No more anger left,

another voice in the bunker ,not his own,not his 'interrogator's.

"You cant have this one Ludwig..." it sounded an accentless voice,was it British?Was it fear he heard in the Germans voice?...

"you,YOU.its not time!I am NOT FINISHED here! I have WORK to do!"The word drawing out into a gutteral growl,full of menace.

"Indeed it is ,brother,time is up,this one stays & you must go.You've had your chance,time to leave."

"Do not think this is over my friend,I have plans for this place that dont concern you & the BRAT is MINE!"

The boy just felt sleepy then,too much nonsense going on in his head.

New voice spoke again.

"You dont recall,"

The boy looked at nothing but a glowing light that emenated from the LT's.dead eyes,glowing,growing in strength.

"4 yrs,4 months,,its overdue"

The light burnt white on his retinas now.

"Now its my turn,my land.you will go".

Then nothing.

After a life of sorrow & joy,& a moment of brief bliss,the great grandfather finally put the child to bed.He enjoyed the chats with the 9 yr old when he stayed over but,the Questions!He was like a machine!

"Were you ever scared?"

Once

"why?"

Not every day you see someones head light up is it?

"Hmm.is that true?"Little ******...

'Sleep now,little 'un.'

Drink & slippers.

Settee.

'Scared?Maybe,nah,me?Too stupid to be scared',he smiled to himself.

Hed seen true Evil in the 2nd show when they'd found the skeletons & ovens abound♠Hed seen Good when the Lt. had pulled him underneath himself from the grenade on that last day of the war♥

And he'd once seen the two together,chatting,in the same poxy hole in the ground,face to face.

He started smiling,then giggling like the kid he still was.

Kid'd never go for that story!

[ypres1418]

That was different, very different,

got me thinking and had to read it twice to understand it.

Mandy

[Ozzie]

Very different take on the subject Dave, well done.

Mandy, ta for your comments.

Cheers

Kim

[Gunboat]

This is a somewhat darker contribution than normal. I know it stretches the subject matter but if you try and picture the image you will understand why it just about fits.

Face to Face

He stirred, clawing at the ground surprised to

Feel the mud seep through his fingers

He was sure he should be dead,

The light, the scorching heat and shock

Then the sudden darkness and sense of being lifted

Lifted as though his soul was ascending.

Then reborn, an infant screaming

Mewing and puking his way into the world

On all fours, Infant fingers fumble around the shellhole

As the fog that fuddled his mind

And temporarily stole his sight

Slowly clears and he see shapes again.

Reaching out his hand recoils

As it falls on flesh

Cold yet still warm the skin pliant and fluid

He inches along the outstretched arm

To Semi-submerged shoulders

And a head bobbing in the still water

He screams to somehow gather the strength

To pull on un-embracing arms

To drag heavy leaden shoulders

To strain every muscle pulling on that

Which was unwilling to leave the womb of the mire

Until at last a crowning and a birth

He strained to hear the newborn greeting

The cry that clears lungs and signals life

But there was no sound and panicking he pushes the stomach

Forcing water from the mouth

In Frothing rivulets that spill from narrowed lips

But no sound, no cough no splutter, no rattle

He holds his ear to the lips desperate

To hear, or feel the slightest brush of breath against cheek

But nothing, just once blue eyes wide and staring

Deep wells of blackened pupils still and unmoving

And flesh that hangs loose from the face

From he that was stillborn

The sleeve that he clasped was field gray

An enemy he could not commit to muddy waters

That could corrupt that once and still beautiful face

The fair hair, thin downy moustache and once blue eyes

Eyes once had laughed, cried, expressed fear

Now lifeless yet somehow still speaking.