Another Band Of Brothers Poem by Philip Warwick

Many were there, some jeep driving,
With the marching through.
Uninsured against the loss of sound mind,
Body or limb, the cacophony of unmitigated din.
Or that glorious death, does any man know?
Soldiers thrust by circumstance,
Onto a Ardenne landscape.
Where all arboreal life was threatened.
Unsung heroes, comrades perished,
Along a ghost road,
Littered with the corpses of young men.
Echoed gunfire, blood seeped snow.
Memories of disturbing dreams,
Soldiers tales, numbing cold.
Passing foxholes, averted eyes,
Afraid the dead should start to rise.
I knew a soldier stained by war,
A paratrooper, not of easy company.
He belonged,
To another band of brothers.