I buried each and every one of them
Sent letters to kids and wives I'll never meet
They were good; loyal to the last
No matter the order, no matter the cost
No matter the odds, no matter...
It was me, I sent them to die
It was me, shielded, protected
I stare out the window to their plot
A bog when it rains, a desert when dry
Those memories, those battles, like dreams
Had I dreamt it, was it all in my head?
Shrill strings rise, drums beat loud
That old dance replays before my eyes
Nothing else mattered
I pray the topsoil keeps them warm
I pray they're at peace
The War now over
My youth now spent
Rest, you brave soldiers
Men of honour, of courage
Of plastic grey and green
I should’ve prefaced this one by saying “no, I’ve never been in the army and no, I’ve never held command over anything with a pulse“. Still, some of my fondest memories are of enacting imaginary battles with the help of those green and grey plastic soldiers. That’s no lie, either; most that fell in combat were buried in my back garden. Respect enough, I thought at the time…
I know now that they each should’ve received State Funerals for the company they were.
Auf Wiedersehen.
AJ Carney 