Wednesday, 14 April 2021

THE DAY DAD WENT TO BELSEN

 

The tank stopped abruptly

And we sat open mouthed

At what we beheld

Our brains could not assimilate

What our eyes were seeing

Great mounds of …. What?

It can’t be that.

All the horrors of war

We had witnessed, experienced

Since D-day

Did not prepare us

For what Belsen held in store

A place devoid of God

A place where even birdsong was banished

We dismounted and approached on foot

As each step brought us closer

Our worst fears were realized

We saw that the mounds were indeed bodies

Or something likened to bodies

Then I saw an androgynous figure

Stood at the fence

A dirty little bag of bones

Wrapped in dirty rags

Bony fingers clutching the wire

Like a bird’s feet gripping a twig

I reasoned it was a girl

As the rags might well have been a dress

“We are English” I said

“Don’t be afraid”

Her fleshless face was beyond gaunt,

Her shaved head little more than a skull

Her huge eyes were so black and deep

I could see into her soul

A weak smile played round her mouth

And tears welled up in her huge eyes

I would not have believed it possible

For her desiccated form

To have held enough moisture for tears

But they were there

And they ran down the grubby cheeks

Of the little bag of bones

And dripped onto her ragged dress

We ran to the gates

And forced them open

Then we stepped into the jaws of hell

More skeletal figure appeared

From amidst the piles of rotting corpses

Bemused and disbelieving

They hugged us, and thanked us

Some cried, some laughed

We gave them water

And fed them our rations

Not realizing we were finishing

What the Germans had started

The food was too rich

For their weak emaciated bodies

What we didn’t realize

Was we were killing them with kindness

The girls name was Elise

She was the same age as me

But she died the next day

Her face with the huge tear-filled eyes

Haunted my dreams

All of the days of my life

Penetrating my soul

And breaking my heart

My only consolation

Was that she at least knew kindness

Once more before she died

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WHEN KITCHENER CALLED

When they hear the recruiter’s call And they take the King’s shilling They’re trained and uniformed And marched towards the killing