The rain started falling and the fields turned to mud,

while us soldiers were crawling through the grass and the shrubs,

machine guns were singing high up on the hill,

and I have no idea of how many were killed,

but it seemed to be hundreds, dozens at least,

with every man praying that the slaughter would cease,

but the guns they continued their deadly refrain,

to the beat of the canon and the hiss of the rain,

while the screams of the dying, and the roar of the shells,

with their smoke and their flame, showed a vision of Hell,

where only the bravest would venture to tread,

it was a field full of wounded, exhausted, or dead,

a place filled with suffering and unimaginable woe,

where only a soldier would be expected to go.

for hour upon hour we were pinned to the ground,

while those enemy machine guns expended their rounds.

Then at last their was silence, the barrage had stopped,

scared and exhausted I remained where I'd dropped,

and in the lull in the fighting, I drifted to sleep,

silently praying for my saviour to keep,

me safe from the shelling, the bullets and bombs,

and I dreamt of my family and the town I came from,

I dreamt of the chapel where I so often prayed,

and the ornate church organ I occasionally played,

I dreamt of my girlfriend, and wished I was there,

on her porch, in the sunlight, on that twin rocking chair.

When a massive explosion shook me awake,

so large it resembled a minor earthquake,

and as I looked round the battlefield at the destruction and death,

sadly I realized, I was the only one left,

God in his mercy had let me survive,

while all of my comrades had given their lives.

and I don't understand it, it doesn't seem fair,

perhaps God heard me praying and answered my prayer.

By S.E.Ralph

3-6-2013