Blood And Cordite Poem by Thomas Thompson

Blood And Cordite

August 19 - September 17,2013

Blood and Cordite

Jerked awake by bedlam

Noise

Chaos

As I heard men shouting

INCOMING INCOMING

Explosive bangs as the mortar rounds fell to the ground

Acrid smoke drifting through the air
Blurring my eyes as I tried to find my way
My very senses attacked by the smell and noise

INCOMING

TAKE COVER

The barrack's aisle jammed by panicked boy-men
Shoving their way through the narrow slit of a door
Scrambling to the bunkered safety
Naught but a few hundred yards away

The explosions slowly receding as I exited the nearly deserted building
The stench of cordite heavy in the air

Tho' as my feet touched the concrete walkway
I was drawn by the sound of a gurgled moan
Turned and saw a man sprawled awkwardly

At the corner of our building

His life pulsing from his shrapnel torn ravaged throat
As three or four of us
Who had not yet reached the bunkers

Ran to where he lay writhing
Ghost like under the pale street light
To comfort as best we could

Watching in silence as one older wiser
Tried frantically to stem the tide
With the barrel of his pen as a stop gap measure

The torn artery slippery

Evasive

His desperate attempts hauntingly unsuccessful
As he screamed in rage and frustration
Knowing he could not save him

While we knelt helpless
Touching holding the dying man as he slowly bled out
His gaze seemingly calm as he looked around

And felt my eyes burning as he saw through me

Standing silent

Numb

Isolated

Frozen

His haunting look forever in my mind

His breaths shallower and shallower
Until he breathed no more
His eyes once full of life

Suddenly dull

As we stood in shock at his passing

The night air humid fetid silent
My pulse pounding
And my heart felt it would explode

As I struggled to make it through the sullen day
Rasping from the thick smoke
Drifting thru from burning aircraft not that far away

His passage fresh in my mind
Tho' then I did not know
How many years he would remain

Later that day when finally released
I returned wearily to my bunk
Glancing left as I slowly lay down

Suddenly instantly awake
Shocked by the two jagged holes
A scant inch above my head

Not there the night before

My gut contracting as I knew deep inside
The tiny shards of metal that shot though the fragile wood
Were of the same round that killed earlier

Shivers coursing down my spine
Knowing but for that smidgen of an inch
Death went wanting as he swiftly passed by

Not long after Easter morn

Tommy

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