The Misery of War Never Ends
Soldiers are trained to kill and endure battle din
No second chance, no shoulder shrugging or apologetic grin
They bayonet, butt stroke, shoot to kill with double tap until done
It’s kill or be killed, until the battle is clearly won
And then after terrible fear and fiery rage have ended
Comes the time to respect and honour any white flag extended
That’s when you take a deep breath and reach out for sanity
Yet for many soldiers mid dark memories, calm dreams will never be
Given Canberra’s fickle feathered rules and ignorance of true seasons
In bloody arenas of hate and misery totally void of sound reason
Blood stained warriors are laden with rules that reduce odds of living
While mute blind masters in freshly laundered suits are unforgiving
Madness of war challenges reason and restraint, time and time again
Brutality masks respect and breeds hate so readily ingrained
Thus warrior armour needs guidance, rotation and adequate rest
Achievable rules and watchful eyes of seniors for behaviour to test
Alas, when asked to do yet another tour of duty with a new force
Weary minds spurred by pride and with dry tongues utter “yes, of course!”
By George Mansford
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Weary minds spurred by pride and with dry tongues utter “yes, of course!” Damned good one, George.