Per Cod

LAST DAY

Quiet rumbling
Hushed thunder in the far
Glass and cutlery
shaking on the shelf
As we make our way
‘cross fields and streets
Past the rubbles
twenty years of war
The roar of mighty diesels
fill the neighbourhood
Smiling, skinny kids
waving cheerfully
see them, see past who they are
Mirrored sun glasses
under a blue helmet
World don’t look the same,
through 50 cal sights

God forsaken place
Don’t smile, don’t feel
On our way to Paradise,
in 19 tons of armoured steel
Wearing blue, easy money
Bermuda shorts and flak jackets
Coca Cola, Marlboro, Allah and Jesus Christ
Shaking earth and flying dust
Short timer going home
from the crazy bloody heat
By God! I’m going home, getting out!
BOOM, slam the panzer
Shout CLEAR down the hatch
Head drops back and I grab the 50
as diesels roar and we head out;
Head for home!

Author’s Note: I can still remember the taste of sand dust in my mouth when I think of the sound of my hand hitting the armour, and the taste of blood and excitement as the armoured vehicle jumped forward and I grabbed the gun to keep from falling. Happened a hundred times I think, and even if I called it, I was never ready for that jump.

Sometimes I miss being a “mere” Corporal. It was real back then, no politics, no diplomacy, just do your job and catch some rest before the next one.