Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Von Heidecker - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The softness of his words arrived
as if their eagerness could ever matter,
upon repatriation they would die, of course
give way to fresher blood and the banality
of things like honour and the Fatherland.

There would be, as a matter of consideration,
the French who never had attracted glory
their word for dusk was what they'd need to hear
it is the time between the wolf and then, the dog.

It was the pleasure of the company of self
that made their final minutes what they were to be.
It was a teamwork of eight Walthers, one command,
their war was over then, his words did matter not.

Comments about Von Heidecker by Herbert Nehrlich

  • (9/17/2005 6:49:00 PM)

    You completely misunderstood (or failed to grasp) the meaning of this poem. Perhaps re-reading would help.
    The pistols were not used by a firing squad.
    The rest of the message passed you by as well.
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Poem Submitted: Saturday, September 17, 2005

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