That Past July (A Soldier's Story) Poem by Wilfred Mellers

That Past July

Written by: Wilfred Mellers, Friday, February 4,2011, @ 4: 04 PM


Wives and sweethearts watch the warrior's from the piers

Drafted conscripts without any volunteers

Hairs cut low from the barber's shears

Nothing left to comfort their familiar fears


From the straits of Tiran to the steps of Algiers

The imperial army dressed fully in their battle gears

Bullets whisper lullabies in their ears

The timid hunkers down and shed silent tears


Thinking no longer it was only a one-year affair

Senses heightened surroundings I was totally aware

Bombs were bursting high in the air

Illuminating the darkness was a single flare


Silent was the night rich with foreboding

The cries in the midst were of self-loathing

The fog thickens as the atmosphere filled with apprehension

Moods swing wildly for nothing could cut the tension


Shadows creep around a stone clearance

Horrifying scream breaks the silence

Hatred filled the heart with vengeance

Cold was the steel of cruel temperance


Thin is the air for the Devil's appearance

Such fury without any guidance

Hollowed utterance in the distance

The meadow ran red without conscience


The idiocy for we was so naïve

Arms severed from shoulder to sleeve

Such depraved cruelty one could not conceive

Not even the fallen you could retrieve


From the onslaught brings no reprieve

The jungle roars in a malicious upheave

Men bow their heads and couldn't believe

Fanatics spares no one time to grieve


From the Shire to smallest Glen

No one can fix what has been broken

This is the true nature of mice and men

For fools repeat the same act all over again


The same song was also sung back then

It was frequented a thousand times ten

They are children in a filthy playpen

The crowing Rooster was truly a hen


The choir says amen

Only god knows when

Prayers clergies no longer send

When will the insanity come to an end?


The conscientious objector always asking why

The government perpetrated the biggest lie

The president had one last fish to fry

Oil since then has been in short supply


Mothers turn their heads and cry

Families bid their soldiers a fond goodbye

Their sons sent off to war to die

Hot it was that September to July