John F. McCullagh
Then And Now - Poem by John F. McCullagh
I look upon the Fields of France
and see her scars a century old.
The fading craters made by shells;
the trench lines where they fought and died.
No star shells now disturb the night
No need to fumble for gas masks.
No 'No -man's Land' between the wires.
No butchery mars these fields of France.
In Nineteen Fourteen, in July
with declarations by old men,
A generation went to war
and most would not see home again.
In muddy trenches rats grew fat.
Whistles sounded the hopeless charge.
Machine guns made a mince of men.
at Verdun, alone, a million dead.
This is now and that was then,
but this is, in truth, a fragile peace.
Hatred simmers, oaths are sworn,
I sense the battle lines are drawn.
The lamp lights flicker now as then.
Will butchery mar these fields again?
Poet's Notes about The Poem
JULY 29,1914. World War one begins
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