Friday, December 3, 2021

13,964. THE LOSSES OF WAR

THE LOSSES OF WAR
(trench warfare, 1915)
I'm wearing my pith helmet
again, and there's no foxhole
to be found. Just these war-line
ditches of mud and blood.
-
Hagerty's arm and hand, I think
I just passed; the rest of him
somewhere else. We were
trench-mates five hours ago.
-
I am forced now to be crawling
through this slime, as survivors
do. I hear Cady in pain, in a
scream from his brain. Another
man down and gone too.
-
The brass who are sending us
out, through these pissing
crevasses of nothing, know
nothing of what this is like,
nor our plight. They are bastards
all  -  if we do not return to them,
it will be alright; no matter,
no difference to make.

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