All soldiers die in battle
If not on the morning of battle with the scent of burned cordite still in the air
then when we ask in real concern
Or in the afternoon of seeping wound when fatigue finds a second wind
and a brown sun begins to burn
If not in the evening as those still alive listen to the moans of the dying
and fear grips the dark night
Or in the false dawn as the enemy seeks a moonlit shadow
in a grey moment of fright
It’s not a question of if all soldiers die
or how they died gallantly in heat of battle
Or the perfection of death and the stories told
of glory and a sabers rattle
Not of the secrets that soldiers will never tell
or even when they do how no one listens
For all we see is the glory and the flag
and never the blood that glistens
A soldier told me this the other day and I could not help
but write it down
“We all died a little as we enter on the day of battle my son
for some soldiers though it just takes longer to lay down ”
Yes , they may die as the first rounds are fired or when the cannons thunder across the long deceiving beauty of a day , they may die as the wounds are dressed and the coreman shakes his head to the soldiers dying question , they may die hours , days or months later from the infections of all mankind’s generous hate , or they may wait until life is through with the old soldier . One thing though is eternally true , All soldiers die a little on the first day of battle and they die a little more each day from that moment on. No matter the years between.
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A heart-felt and poignant rendering Ed. War is such tragedy and the suffering both physically and mentally, life altering. So well penned and emotive my friend. Stirring work indeed. Cheers!