TOMMY

We walked towards the enemy
Hidden in the mist
That lay like a silent shroud
We picked our way
Across the open ground
Until the silence was broken
As overhead, a shell burst
Raining death and shrapnel
Knocking us to the ground
Throwing us hither and thither
Like skittles in an alley
Broken bodies lay in the Flanders mud
Of “no mans land”
Before me Tommy hung on the wire
His body vivid red
Cut from neck to groin
Even a baker such as I, knew
He was beyond earthy aid
“Shoot me” he pleaded
His face etched deep with pain
I knelt before him contemplating his request
Then his face relaxed
And he called out “mother”
Though not in pain or anguish
Not a cry for help, but a greeting
An exclamation of joy
As he was returned to her arms
War had diminished my faith
But in that instant it was restored
By a single death, my friend Tommy