VETERAN

Veteran of the ancient war, before my time, tell me, what was it like?

I see pictures in the history books, black and white photographs.

Did the enemy scream when you bayoneted them and cry for their mothers?

Did you see your mates beg for mercy as their blood ran away from shattered legs?

Now sixty years later I see you, frail and withered, lost in your memories as you wait to die and to join your comrades.

You, a prisoner of old age, never of the enemy, in an old person’s home. You had your years and gave them to your country, boy made man on the battlefield, you live in the past, in battles and of foreign names and people long gone.

For my generation’s freedom you fought, now a new world, one you can never know but we are truly grateful and freedom is ours, by an old man’s actions, young soldier in battle, sixty years ago.