A work in progress.
We'd been detailed off to stand sentry
I grumbled at being detailed off wif a kid
We'll old sweats are like that me do that kind fing
Grumble as a mater of principle!
We never volunteer! lernt that in 1912 , when I joined up
So woz a regular me, I'd joined up , well it woz that or serve time in the chokey!
So I signde up to do three years in the army , and before I'd don me three years!
Blood war came along at put pay to that!
We'll they recond it be over before Christmas!
Fook 'em , that waz two Christmases ago!
I should of gone to court , did me time , I'd not be hear standing century wif
A bloody kid , still wet behind the ears!
Not even to ''ave a shave , bleeding , fooking hell!
Well we made our way to the firing step , relvde the fookers who'd been doing Sentry
He , the bleeding kid , could not waite to look at the Jerry's facing us
Now honist I told ''im , not to look , Jerry , proberly ''as a sniper on the look
Out , for a likely target , he, just grind , ''e just had to have a better look!
Stupid born basterd! A crack , and he was dead s a nail , 'e did not even 'e was Shot and a goner
Then crack! , he had a look of suprise on his kids face , he'd coped a bullet in the 'In 'is 'ead
He was dead , strait in 'is head , no comeing back , I never asked 'im his name! Well , a waist of time , new replacements , killed evrey Day , just a waist bleeding Time remembering their bleeding names ''ar one minuet , dead before the clock 'ad Tick that minit gone
I calld fore the stretcher bearers , they took there time , bleeders! went througe
''Is poket's , looking for fags , found a photo , it wos of a girl , look lovely and Sweat looking little thing , look on the back she'd writen '' take care my love ''
So looking foward to being your wife , Alice XXXX ''
Thats why we dont bother remembering names , what wos the point?
I put the pitcher back in his tunic pocket , the woodbines I found in me tunic pocket
When the stecher party came to pick ''im up , I got back to me centry duty
I took out me perlinde , Woodbine , inserted the fag in 'ole the trench , let the smoke rise up out of the trench , made my way down , put up the periscope
Look around , spotted the sniper , took aime , and fierd , got 'im in the belly!
'' Got the bastard! 'thats for you Alice! '' I could not forget her name! I wish I could
Then I took aim again , this time I shot off his chin! Meant to! I wos in no mood
To be merciful!
At least he'd not be bothering me , he'd slowly die , but die quietly!
Least I could do! for Alice and me!
I woz going to be stuck hear on sentry duty by me self , last fing I woted woz some Jerry caling for his mum , all bleeding night!
I trevde the fag , and had a quiet smoke
Thats war that is!
Ken D Williams
The Dyslexic Wordsmith
Poetry by ken d williams
Read 734 times
Written on 2014-06-27 at 01:14
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SENTRY DUTY (world war one)
Me and this young kid he had just turned 19We'd been detailed off to stand sentry
I grumbled at being detailed off wif a kid
We'll old sweats are like that me do that kind fing
Grumble as a mater of principle!
We never volunteer! lernt that in 1912 , when I joined up
So woz a regular me, I'd joined up , well it woz that or serve time in the chokey!
So I signde up to do three years in the army , and before I'd don me three years!
Blood war came along at put pay to that!
We'll they recond it be over before Christmas!
Fook 'em , that waz two Christmases ago!
I should of gone to court , did me time , I'd not be hear standing century wif
A bloody kid , still wet behind the ears!
Not even to ''ave a shave , bleeding , fooking hell!
Well we made our way to the firing step , relvde the fookers who'd been doing Sentry
He , the bleeding kid , could not waite to look at the Jerry's facing us
Now honist I told ''im , not to look , Jerry , proberly ''as a sniper on the look
Out , for a likely target , he, just grind , ''e just had to have a better look!
Stupid born basterd! A crack , and he was dead s a nail , 'e did not even 'e was Shot and a goner
Then crack! , he had a look of suprise on his kids face , he'd coped a bullet in the 'In 'is 'ead
He was dead , strait in 'is head , no comeing back , I never asked 'im his name! Well , a waist of time , new replacements , killed evrey Day , just a waist bleeding Time remembering their bleeding names ''ar one minuet , dead before the clock 'ad Tick that minit gone
I calld fore the stretcher bearers , they took there time , bleeders! went througe
''Is poket's , looking for fags , found a photo , it wos of a girl , look lovely and Sweat looking little thing , look on the back she'd writen '' take care my love ''
So looking foward to being your wife , Alice XXXX ''
Thats why we dont bother remembering names , what wos the point?
I put the pitcher back in his tunic pocket , the woodbines I found in me tunic pocket
When the stecher party came to pick ''im up , I got back to me centry duty
I took out me perlinde , Woodbine , inserted the fag in 'ole the trench , let the smoke rise up out of the trench , made my way down , put up the periscope
Look around , spotted the sniper , took aime , and fierd , got 'im in the belly!
'' Got the bastard! 'thats for you Alice! '' I could not forget her name! I wish I could
Then I took aim again , this time I shot off his chin! Meant to! I wos in no mood
To be merciful!
At least he'd not be bothering me , he'd slowly die , but die quietly!
Least I could do! for Alice and me!
I woz going to be stuck hear on sentry duty by me self , last fing I woted woz some Jerry caling for his mum , all bleeding night!
I trevde the fag , and had a quiet smoke
Thats war that is!
Ken D Williams
The Dyslexic Wordsmith
Poetry by ken d williams
Read 734 times
Written on 2014-06-27 at 01:14
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
