TOMMY

 

We walked towards the enemy

Hidden in the mist

That lay like a silent shroud

We picked our way

Across the open ground

Until the silence was broken

As overhead, a shell burst

Raining death and shrapnel

Knocking us to the ground

Throwing us hither and thither

Like skittles in an alley

Broken bodies lay in the Flanders mud

Of “no mans land”

Before me Tommy hung on the wire

His body vivid red

Cut from neck to groin

Even a baker such as I, knew

He was beyond earthy aid

“Shoot me” he pleaded

His face etched deep with pain

I knelt before him contemplating his request

Then his face relaxed

And he called out “mother”

Though not in pain or anguish

Not a cry for help, but a greeting

An exclamation of joy

As he was returned to her arms

War had diminished my faith

But in that instant it was restored

By a single death, my friend Tommy