An English Soldier In Africa
Apr. 25th, 2023 09:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poliphiloGoing through stuff in the attic I found a poem I wrote when I was 20 or 21 called An English Soldier in Africa. It strikes poses in a way I couldn't countenance today but there's something about it I quite like- so I started thinking about how I might write it if I were coming at the subject today- and the outcome was this completely different poem with the same title...
An English Soldier In Africa.
I've had what they call an education.
I know what the Latin says on that stone.
I have no quarrel with any nation.
I think we should leave one another alone.
I have or once had a girl in Blighty.
She's working an anti-aircraft gun.
(I think of her in her baby doll nightie)
She makes it sound like it's wonderful fun.
I'll write her back but I don't think I'll mention
The German chap in the tank over there,
Half out of the hatch as if stood to attention,
His skin burned black and his teeth all bare.
My death waits for me beyond this wadi.
He's wearing goggles against the sand.
I'll shoot at him like a good little squaddie
But all that I want is to shake his hand....
An English Soldier In Africa.
I've had what they call an education.
I know what the Latin says on that stone.
I have no quarrel with any nation.
I think we should leave one another alone.
I have or once had a girl in Blighty.
She's working an anti-aircraft gun.
(I think of her in her baby doll nightie)
She makes it sound like it's wonderful fun.
I'll write her back but I don't think I'll mention
The German chap in the tank over there,
Half out of the hatch as if stood to attention,
His skin burned black and his teeth all bare.
My death waits for me beyond this wadi.
He's wearing goggles against the sand.
I'll shoot at him like a good little squaddie
But all that I want is to shake his hand....
