a poet, an artist, and a romantic in the trenches

a poet, an artist, and a romantic in the trenches

fiction
edward w pritchard

Captain says he don't need a poet, an artist or a romantic in the trenches when the enemy starts to bomb with the big guns, sends over the noxious gases on a foul wind, or sneaks up on you in the dark and sticks a twisting rusted bayonet in your buddies neck where it attaches at the jaw.

Ain't that the way it is, you try to behave with civility and some mercenary from over there blows a whistle and over the top they come at full gallop giving the rebel yell fighting with a fury for King, Country, big business interests and their own intricate long range plans of economic comfort after they retire from the competition to have stuff and earn a good comfortable living.

If you are going to carry a bible here in the trenches don't read it, and don't follow what it says about love thy fellow man; stick it in your shirt pocket it might just stop a bullet one day.

You can't reason with them on the other side, they ain't your friend, you don't owe them nothing and  this disagreement between countries is just a catastrophic explosion that will send pieces of the heart's of a poet, an artist and a romantic flying in all directions.

There ain't no civility or rules involved protect yourself at all costs and don't forgive them with passing time nor does self interested explanations  mitigate what the enemy did. Protect your heart from further damage.

Don't close your eyes for a moment staring out into the darkness and dust across no man's land. One day they will be a comin back over the top.