1941 — ANZAC Day

A poem about soldiers leaving for war in World War II.

Born into prohibition;
Fifteen without a mission.
War erupts in Germany,
A human rights travesty
Suddenly I can see,
How I could help humanity.

I had to lie about my age
For my time to make a change.
The man looked at me with apathy
He wrote my name and said to me:
“Son, you better not have blundered.
Your regiment ships out at Oh-Six-Hundred.”

I told my mother what I had done
She had already lost her son
My father said he was proud;
So long as I didn’t drown.
Late at night my siblings still cry:
Hoping their big brother won’t die.

Home disappeared across the waves
A thousand men sailing to their graves.
Relatives watched from ashore
Seeing their boys off to war.
We are nervous, plagued by our fears:
Is that sea spray, or men’s tears?

Now I lie here surrounded by my men
These people with guns that I call friends.
We sleep forever in dirty ditches
Our slumber encumbered by endless itches:
How will my family know
That I will never return home?