Author: RJ mack

Chapter 3
Young to old war Involed

Here i show thought my poems the hell that war can be.

Poor young boy

As the poor young boy walks past

He sees the signs

The calling

So much money to be had

So many dreams to be made

And adventures to be had


The recruiting Sgt

All smiles and enthusiastic

Sure you can join

You will get this

You get that

Rubbing his hands

Another one for the slaughter


It’s not till that poor young boy see battle

An image or site

Does that bell toll in his head

What am I?

What have I done?

I didn’t join for this

But it’s too late

It’s done now

And many years will pass

That young boy grows in to a man

With a dark soul and a heavy mind

The images and sounds hunting him taunting him

He sits and wounds what if

But there is no what ifs

There is a just why

Nobody told me that side

Nobody made me aware I would be scared and hurt for life

I just wanted money and adventure and sport

Not this

No way would I have chosen this!!!!!


The nervous,

The excitement,

The Anticipation,

Rolls in to fear

The unknown turns in too unwanted thoughts

Your foot touch the sand, the heat blazes your face your here that’s it.

No turning back.

Your weapon around your shoulder like an extension of your arm,

Your mind begins to wonder where I am, what am I doing?



Switch on!!

Your here

You’re in war you try to tell your brain to forget everything and remember your training.


Your first patrol

Heart beating, sweat evaporating from ever paw

You walk,

You look

You’re aware of every sound even your heartbeat sounds too loud





What the fuck!!

Over there get some rounds down shit, shit, shit

Oh god what have I done am fucked am done

What have I done?

Clam yourself remember your training

Look for target

Take a breath

A moment a felting moment

Your clam now in control

The training has taken over

3 round burst!!

Enemy down!!

Move, move, move!!

Weapon up

Eyes ever where

Looking, searching

Nothing thank god!

Patrol over

Your back at base camp you’ve cleaned your weapon

Your kit is sort

You try to relax your mind goes numb

Your head shuts off your asleep ready for the nightmare to start again.



I think of them dark nights

Under the wonders sky

As my own music was made

With each sound my heart did bounce

Not the happy bounce

But one of astounding fear

What is this place?

If not hell

Then what

Those bombs were dropped

And the fear arose

Gas gas gas

Came the calls

Each one of us rush to fit our shells

To stay alive

And hidden from the gas

Each day we had six’s or sevens

Each time our wits were shot

Our hearts on melt down

And our fears shown on faces

Not wanting to take our last baiting breath

The mines

As I crawled

I scraped my knees

On that hard gritty sand

Touching, poking, feeling my way

My heart in my mouth

My bayonet feeling ever so hot

Scorching and burning each knuckle

The stench of burning flash in my mouth

Time stands still

You try not to rush


Taking each centimeter at a snail pace

You think fuck fuck fuck

Hoping you don’t press too hard

Hoping you don’t hear that click

Looking checking is all you can do

Making your safe passage

And leave!!!

We are but soldiers

We are but soldiers

Tools of a political trade

We have solid values

We stand by them through thick and thin

We train hard to fight easy

We stand toe to toe with the biggest of our foes

We fight

We protect

We stand up to be counted


We are but soldiers

We are also men, yet

You hurl abuse at us

Ask us why when wars are fought

You blame us

You hate us

Yet it was not our decision

It’s but a job to us

Ye forget that governments come and go

But we still stand tall

Marching to orders

To protect and serve


We are but soldiers

We leave

We become part of history

Just a number

In a file

Locked away

Nobody thinks of us when we are fighting ourselves

We are the forgotten ones

You may see a drunk or a lag

Look closer

Take your time

You will see

A man who hates and despises himself

Don’t walk on by

Give this man some help

We are just soldiers after all


Ask yourself what are we fighter for?

What are we fighting for?

You may think we think of the bigger picture

Or the political crew

You may think we have our own personal aims


What are we fighting for?

He has my back

I have his back

He has an empty mag

I cover him

I have an empty mag he covers me

He would die for me

I would die for him

What are we fighter for?

It is certainly not the bigger picture or the political crew

We are a brotherhood

We respect the other

We love the other

We protected each other

What are we fighting for?









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