THE SOLDIER.

There he stands

clad out in his uniform

cap on his head, pack on his back

rifle by his side.

He stands there tall and proud

ready to go where duty calls

ready even to fall into the hands of death.

 

At home his family sit and wait

wondering if they'll ever see him again

hoping, praying that one day soon

he'll return to them and not have

to answer to the call of duty again.

 

Gunshots fill the air

Men fall and hide

The clatter of rifle shots

carry on and on

Prayers go up for safety

Men think of families left behind

Some lying dying.

Then suddenly all is quiet

 

Heads cautiously pop up

then men gather together

losses are counted

the injured carried out.

 

There's a knock on the door

A lady goes to answer

The officer removes his cap

"Ma'am your . . . . I'm sorry"

A baby's cries fill the air

a door slams

and somewhere a dog barks

Life goes on

But this time he didn't make it.

 

The last call sounds

followed by a twent one gun salute

The coffin is slowly lowered into the grave

Prayers go up

Good byes are said

He was only twenty six

 

War nothing but a heart breaker

War nothing but a soul taker

War!

 

Y L CILLIERS

 

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HISTORY'S FACE

 

His loud, harsh bellow was forged

Before his recruits were born.

He hears the voices of those

Who fought beside him in battles

Which mark the Regiment's pride.

Who lie buried in far, scattered places,

Who have left their names inscribed on the Regiment's Roll.

 

The Regiment has been

Is

Will always be

His life

And his reason for life.

 

Chas Lotter

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RETRIBUTION

 

We came

From the hills at dawn

Marking our trail

In fiery progress. Grim shapes

Moving from kraal to kraal

With chaos in our hands.

 

Fires

Pinpointed habitation across the valley floor.

Not a hut was spared.

An explosion belched

As a landmine

Deep-hidden, in a granary, met the flame.

A radio

Crackled urgently; a booby trap had been found.

People scurried

To rescue possessions.

Livestock scattered, fleeing, with no place to go.

 

I stood on a rise.

Watching the smoke billow, blot out the sun.

Hell must be like this. Panic, fear

Fire and smoke. Devils

Egging you on.

But I feel no pity.

This war

Has gone on long enough.

 

Chas Lotter

 

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What is War

 

In the cold grey light of dawn

A soldier dies for the world to mourn

What is this thing called war

What is all the fighting for

Has it been for fun or hate or more.

 

What is it, on which these men feed

Is it a wrong or could it be greed

Every man must fight for what he loves

A land of peace and cooing turtle doves

These are everyone's dreams

 

For this land must take part in greater schemes

Except for men who will kill for lust

To rape and turn this country to dust.

 

How much longer can innocent people weep

Whilst the world remains fast asleep

They must right the wrongs they have done

So we can live in peace under the sun

 

By Gareth Mees

 

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