It’s been the blessing or the curse of many North American citizens that they have not experienced wars at home, nor seen the horrors of war personally. As such many rally with good intent behind the troops, supporting the government”s embroilment in far off military campaigns., never taking note how much affliction, pain and death is brought upon millions of innocent people.
I still have vivid memories of our life in Rotterdam, Holland in World War II. Since the city was an important international seaport it became the target of constant attack. In 1940 the Germans bombed out the center of the city. It gave instant employment to my father, who had been out of work in the Great Depression. But what a way to provide for your family, cleaning up the rubble from the bombing. Then in 1943 the West side of the city was bombed by the Allies. That was too close to home, only a few blocks from where we lived. Images of the ruined buildings, the flames, smell of smoke and chaos to this very day are still with me. One image particularly is most vivid, an image of a black-scorched toddler, lying in a wheelbarrow outside the local police station.
Many years later I joined the Canadian Army, was sent overseas to Germany. I spent there two years and had opportunity to visit various cities. Again, I was faced with images of bombed out sections of some cities . Among them Dortmund, Dusseldorf and Hamburg. Again what forlorn sites. It only reinforced my conviction that there must be better ways to assure world peace.
As I gained maturity I began to understand that much of the saber rattling has more to do with hegemonic ambitions and greed for profit than warding off assumed enemies. How else would one be able to explain military campaigns thousands of miles away from the home land? Never can one become convinced that these are purely waged for the defense of the nation.
It is my own experience coupled with the sad reports of the wars in the Mid East that prompted me to write the enclosed poem. I wrote it several years ago, but in light of a possible invasion of Iran it is just as relevant now as it was at the height of the Iraqi War.
NO MORE WARS
Refrain:
No more wars, no more pain, no more shame.
Never again will I feel the same.
All around, destruction, violent change.
Let good deeds, not evil range.
Watch those planes, high up in the sky.
They swiftly to their targets fly.
From thousand feet they drop their bombs
Upon innocents without qualms.
Screams are rent from searing pain
Search is made for the maimed and slain.
Women, children ,the aged, lie there
With horrific wounds and deathly stare.
Soldiers break through reinforced door,
Intent on settling wrathful score.
Buddies, killed by a roadside bomb,
Are painfully missed, but are gone.
In a corner, writhing in pain,
Lies a man in sorrow, he can’t contain.
His wife and children, he found dead.
Now he faces troops, in much dread.
With rifle butts slammed on his head
They cuss with words that can’ t be said.
“Dog, who killed our men, on that road?
We’ll squeeze your neck, you slimy toad.”
“I’m a teacher. How would I know?
Let me mourn. I’ve been brought down low.”
They kicked, and shot him full of lead.
And felt content that he was dead.
The blackened smoke trails in the sky.
Symbol of death, to those drawn nigh.
Burned out homes, a silent witness
To dubious war’s dirty business.
We’ve been baited too long by lies
Camouflaged in patriot’s guise.
Surging truth has opened our eyes.
No longer will we fall for lies.
Refrain
No more wars. No more pain. No more shame.
Never again will I feel the same.
All around, destruction, violent change.
Let good deeds, not evil range.
Village Peasant March 24, 2008 -
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Tags: anti war, Iraqi war, plea for peace, poetry, Village Peasant, war
