It’s Quiet, Very Quiet In The Veldt Poem by Gert Strydom

It’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound

and the chopper drones away
leaving me and Johnny
and a few other men

with a Bushmen tracker
to follow a enemy spoor
and suddenly we walk straight in
to a ambush, right into a trap

and Johnny is dead, shot through the head
and three others as well and it feels as if I am in hell
and I am talking to myself

trying to get my bearings while firing at the enemy,
killing some and throwing two grenades
to advice them of my serious intentions

and the enemy shooting stops, as does that
of me and my men and I smell death
and are nauseous to the point of retching

and it’s quiet, very quiet in the veldt
even the crickets and grasshoppers
are without sound.