AT THE VFW

The men gather at the canteen
To toast a by-gone day
when as boys they marched together
The game of war to play
But it was no game
There was no play
It was a terrible, deadly trial
So they recall their buddies, lost
Dead or missing all this while.
The tears are absent from their eyes.
But you can hear them in a voice
As they recount war stories
With profanity of choice
It was on this hill or on that sea
This battle fought or some other
When someones precious life was lost
A buddy or a brother
The drinks are poured, the glasses raised
A voice rings out straight and true
"We took care one another the best we could"
"Now may God look after you"
And then there is a silence
And then there is a thought
They know they'll march again, together
When lifes' last battle has been fought.

Dedicated to all the old warriors who are members of a VFW
By: Judith Ludgate Knight

Back To More War Poetry