Anecdote Of A Coin Poem by Gert Strydom

I placed a coin
upon a railway track
while training at Klipdrift army camp
to go to war.

The coin was flattened
and stretched two centimetres long
and pressed upon
the image of the track.

More trains passed day and night
and the coin remained
as part of that rail.

It never would transform back
to a round and shiny thing
and have the capacity
to buy anything.

I was transformed from boy
to man and matured
before the end of spring.

I became a killing machine
and lost humanity
and learnt to stay alive
while passing through
ash holes and obstacles
with live bullets whistling past.

The battle raged in Namibia
and into Angola
where I was taken
to the gates of hell

The sentence lasted a full two years
and much longer still,
as after the initial stint
and while being a civilian
every year the call up papers
for another camp
of a month to four
kept coming in.

Flown from Waterkloof Air force base
to Youngsfield in the Cape,
transported to base,
issued and barbered and indoctrinated
and sent by rail to De Brug,
armed and motorized with armour
and send by road to Luthatla
to be trained in
and then to war
and if alive
back home again
was like a endless cycle.

How could I come back from war
and killing
and shell-shocked and a little mad
be human
and live a life again.