Shot At Dawn: (From Eye Witness Accounts) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

He was tied up head to toe like a German sausage
A thick bandage covered his eyes, and on his chest
A square of cloth was placed above his heart

The padre mumbled some words and went off for breakfast
The guns lay on the ground.

The condemned man was tethered to a post
At a silent gesture, we all picked up our guns,
Abruptly turned about, aimed, at the order, fired

Then we wheeled round. The sergeant barked 'Quick march! '
We marched right past the body, not turning our heads.

No parade, no music,
A hideous death without pipes, or drums or trumpets.

Back at the Battalion Orderly Room
We all got a tumbler of rum, with the rest of the day off.
I live with knowing I didn't fire the blank.