Martin “Marty” Boyce

GHOSTS OF MENIN ROAD

I saw up on the Menin Road on a cold and misty night
the ghosts of lost battalions once more heading out to fight
Diggers, Tommies, French and Germans made their way up to the front
re-enacting every foot step as they headed for the stunt

In the stillness of that night the whispered voices could be heard
as they waited at the jump of tapes, once more waiting for the word
In the mist were apparitions of those soldiers who had died:
each one of them believing that the lord was on their side

As a storm rolled by the thunder crashed across the Flemish plain
I could swear that I heard bullets mingled with the sound of rain
The lightning flashes lit the sky like flares from battles past
The soldiers rose as one to charge each loyal to the last

As daylight came I made my way back through the Menin Gate
while the scenes I had inside my head I tried hard to equate
Across the field I swear I heard the sound of rifle fire
A stilted cry, then silence and the rattle of barbed wire

The Menin Road, Ypres ~ 14 September 1917: Photo courtesy of the Australian War Memorial