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Field Post ©

Allan Paris
Herzebrock-Clarholz, Germany
2005

Negotiations failed mum,
That's why I had to leave.
Those politicians failed mum,
Itīs us who have to grieve.
Iīm sitting here in Hell mum,
A wet and dirty trench.
I really canīt describe mum,
The suffering and the stench.
Itīll all be over soon mum,
That's what our leaders said.
Send them over here mum,
To walk among the dead.
Donīt listen to their lies mum,
This war is getting bigger.
Politicians they donīt fight mum,
Itīs me who pulls the trigger.
When this fighting's over mum,
Iīll come home safe to you,
And try hard to forget mum,
The things Iīve had to do.
So donīt you cry for me mum,
God looks after me.
Heīll send me back to you mum,
Just you wait and see.

PS: from Commanding Officer

Sorry to inform you Maīam,
Your son was killed today,
Another senseless pawn Maīam,
In this war game that we play.
If itīs of any comfort Maīam,
He suffered painless death,
And whispered me your name Maīam,
Upon his final breath.



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