Shell

Brian wasn’t looking for trouble,

when he entered the ward’s military kitchen

but, there, a young and wounded man

asked  him ‘You a conchie chum?

You look healthy, willing and able.’

He answered simply, flat, straightforward;

‘That’s the way I read the Bible!’

 

The soldier snorted; reached for his mess tin.

 

‘Listen mate, I’m only eighteen;

back from France where my pal was shot

shouted for Mum as he clasped and dropped

(I’ve heard a lot of shouts for Mum)

but at Dunkirk I got hands on a German,

stuffed his face in water ‘til his lungs were clogged.

I shouted him down, kicking, ‘til he wasn’t moving.’

 

Eye met eye at the door of the kitchen,

A smile,

look down.

 

‘Thanks

 

Yes    thanks

 

 

 

 

 

for listening.’