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Duath
Is Anybody Out there?

When the thunder came
With our flag in flames
Everybody changed their color
When the night became
So dark with pain
Everyone became a brother
I came across the universe
And I don't know why
I came across the universe
To hear a soldier cry

Is anybody out there
Is anybody listening to my prayer
Is anybody there
If you can hear me please take me out of here
Is anybody out there
Is anybody out there


And the morning light
Makes you wonder why
You were ever born to see it
When your body's cold
It's not the story told
To the brave young souls who believe it

They came across the battlefield
And they don't know why
They came across the universe
To hear a soldier cry

Is anybody out there
Is anybody listening to my prayer
Is anybody there
If you can hear me please take me out of here
Is anybody out there
Is anybody out there


All his friends know he fears the end
And he'll die for them if he had to
Rise again
Fall again
In the end God will come to the rescue

Is anybody out there
Is anybody listening to my prayer
Is anybody there
If you can hear me please take me out of here
Is anybody out there
Is anybody out there


By Billy Gilman

Duath
Prayer Before Battle

The soldiers pray fervently, every man for himself:
God, protect me from bad luck.
Father, son and holy ghost,
Please don’t let any shells hit me,
Or those scoundrels, our enemies
Imprison or shoot me,
Don’t let me kick the bucket like a dog
For the dear Fatherland.
See, I would like to still live
Milk cows, bang girls,
And beat up that rascal, Sepp.
And get boozed up many times
Before I meet my holy end.
See, I’ll pray well and willingly
Say seven rosaries daily,
If, God, in your mercy
You kill my friends Huber or Meier
But spare me.
But if I’ve got to take it
Let me not be wounded too heavily.
Send me a light leg-wound,
A small arm injury,
So that I return home as a hero
Who can tell many a story.

By Alfred Lichtenstein
Translated from the German by Peter Appelbaum
6th-Feb-2016 01:00 am - Ernie Yeomans, 'Stand To!'
Duath
Stand To!

He shakes me gently by the foot
And whispers in my ear
“Come on lad it’s time to go”
“Get ya backside into gear”

I roll out of my hammock
Drop softly to the ground
Move off to my position
Careful not to make a sound

Face the front you lucky lads
And watch your arcs of fire
It may just be today they come
So we stay still and perspire

My best mate John is on my left
And Jake is on my right
I know we’ll watch each other’s backs
If it comes down to a fight

I look down on the valley
From high up on the ridge
Down along the river
To the native’s old rope bridge

The trees pop up their leafy crowns
Through a sea of swirling mist
Across the silent jungle
By the sun ‘t will soon be kissed

Will the Indons come today?
I wonder if they might.
We’re ready for them if they do
We’re ready for the fight

I feel my hands a’ shaking
As the dawn draws ever near
Am I shaking from the morning chill?
Or could it be from fear?

At last the sun burns off the mist
Jungle noises echo round
And we get what we’ve been waiting for
The order to stand down

By Ernie Yeomans

['Stand to' is the period from just before daybreak until full light and from dusk until night has fallen. This is the most likely time for attack - in the half light.]
Duath
What the Orderly Dog Saw

A Winter Landscape
To Mrs. Percy Jackson


I
The seven white peacocks against the castle wall
In the high trees and the dusk are like tapestry;
The sky being orange, the high wall a purple barrier,
The canal dead silver in the dusk:
And you are far away.

Yet I see infinite miles of mountains,
Little lights shining in rows in the dark of them—
Infinite miles of marshes;
Thin wisps of mist, shimmering like blue webs
Over the dusk of them.

Great curves and horns of sea,
And dusk and dusk, and the little village;
And you, sitting in the firelight.

II
Around me are the two hundred and forty men of B Company,
Mud-colored;
Going about their avocations,
Resting between their practice of the art
Of killing men;
As I too rest between my practice
Of the art of killing men.
Their pipes glow over the mud and their mud-color, moving like fireflies beneath the trees—
I too being mud-colored—
Beneath the trees and the peacocks.
When they come up to me in the dusk
They start, stiffen and salute, almost invisibly.
And the forty-two prisoners from the battalion guard-room
Crouch over the tea-cans in the shadow of the wall.
And the bread hunks glimmer, beneath the peacocks—
And you are far away.

III
Presently I shall go in.
I shall write down the names of the forty-two
Prisoners in the battalion guard-room
On fair white foolscap:
Their names, rank and regimental numbers;
Corps, Companies, Punishments and Offences,
Remarks, and By whom confined.
Yet in spite of all I shall see only
The infinite miles of dark mountain,
The infinite miles of dark marshland,
Great curves and horns of sea,
The little village;
And you,
Sitting in the firelight.

By Ford Madox Hueffer (Ford)
4th-Feb-2016 01:00 am - Jeremy Gosnell, 'Become Forever'
Duath
Become Forever

Through the looking glass I peered
Like peering into the window of another world
One cold, wrapped in the embrace of a sudden winter
An inescapable cold that held all in its grip
Tightened by the chilling air, and spreading frost

The world had put us in perfect symmetry
You and I
Visible to anyone, to the stars, to the moon
And the sky

I peered at you, watching each movement, keen and calculated
My finger resting on the trigger
Trying to focus myself away from the moment
Imagine it as though I was not me
Making the entire instant faded and created – a blurred and distorted reality

Though no thought or distortion
No calculation or dream could take me away from myself today
The cold of winter, the growl of hunger, and the growing content of disbelief had manifested too well within me
Fear not my brother in arms, for I am as afraid as you

Circumstance abound I released myself from duty
For it was not my duty to take you from this world
The bullet to be your chariot, carrying you into the realm beyond
Their duty is theirs, not mine
So walk away my brother in arms, leave this place and pray for white shores, open fields and the forgiving rays of a gentle sun

For I will lay down my rifle forever
I will become forever
I will be the wind in the meadow
The song of the sea
The hum of a sleeping child
I will be immortal and everlasting
I will be today and tomorrow
I will be free of duty, free of war, and riding the soft waves of peace

by Jeremy Gosnell
3rd-Feb-2016 01:00 am - Wilfred Owen, 'Exposure'
Duath
Exposure

I

Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
But nothing happens.

Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
Northward incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,
Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
What are we doing here?

The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow ...
We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of gray,
But nothing happens.

Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow,
With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew,
We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
But nothing happens.

II

Pale flakes with lingering stealth come feeling for our faces--
We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses.
Is it that we are dying?

Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires glozed
With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;
Shutters and doors all closed: on us the doors are closed--
We turn back to our dying.

Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born,
For love of God seems dying.

To-night, His frost will fasten on this mud and us,
Shrivelling many hands and puckering foreheads crisp.
The burying-party, picks and shovels in their shaking grasp,
Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
But nothing happens.

by Wilfred Owen
2nd-Feb-2016 01:00 am - Sabaton, 'Killing Ground'
Duath
Killing Ground

At Fraustadt the Swedish forces faced
An army almost twice its size.
And on that day we showed the world not only
Our superiority in battle but also
How cruel man can be.

Frozen ground,
Ride with the wind
Emerge from the gunsmoke like demons
Rehnskiöld's men
Charging their flanks
The enemy trembles with fear

One by one the Saxons disband
Or die where they stand

Killing ground
Even though you surrender
Turn around
You will never survive
Killing ground
At the battle of Fraustadt

Fall in line
Battle formations
Show no fear
Riding them down
Break their will
Show them no mercy
Caroleans attack

Round them up, look into their eyes
They beg for their lives

See the Caroleans standing tall
All for one and one for all
Enemies fall at their feet
Begging for their mercy
See the Caroleans standing tall
Conquer lands and slaughter all
Enemies fall at their feet
Victory and great defeat

by 'Sabaton'

Battle of Fraustadt, February 2, 1706

Duath
Death and the Soldier

As the battle din receded
Over the hills and far away,
Tyorkin, lonely and unheeded,
In the snow abandoned lay.

Blood and snow to ice had hardened
Underneath him. Stealthily,
Death stooped over him and whispered:
"Soldier, come along with me.

"I am now your own dear true-love,
And we haven't far to go.
I shall make the blinding blizzard
Hide your trail with shifting snow."

Tyorkin shuddered as he froze there
On his ice-encrusted bed.
"I don't need you here, Kosaya,
I am still alive, not dead."

Laughing, Death came closer, saying:
"Here, young fellow, that will do.
Though you live, your hours are numbered.
I know better far than you.

"As I passed, my deathly shadow
Touched your cheek so young and fair,
And you haven't even noticed
How the snow is settling there.

"Do not fear my shades of darkness,
Truly, night's no worse than day...

"What d'you mean? Just what exactly
Are you after, anyway?"

Here Death almost seemed to falter.Collapse )

31st-Jan-2016 01:00 am - Leo Sternberg, 'Out Of The Trenches'
Duath
Out Of The Trenches

1. The Brothers
The man has submerged in the great army;
The army has disappeared into the earth; far away lies the sea
Of night-covered forest chains.
Lost breezes pass between home and enemy land,
They meet and fade away.
And patrols rise up from the trenches like ghosts from the grave
A helmet appears large for a moment before the night sky.
Then the whispering troop disappears in the stormy woods.
Only the wind rustles in the tree-tops and a call echoes in the darkness
Patrol meets patrols and stamps like shadows past each another
And one recognizes, from a voice in the dark, his brother and like a choked cry
Whispers are heard as they pass: Wilhelm? Heinrich? Mother wrote today?.
“Greetings” Till we meet again!”
And then they disappear in different directions in the darkness
The forest paths gleam brightly lit broadly by a flare
Again sunken in the night: shots from the forward posts
Silence of the hostile world.


2. The Relief
We lie snowed in the trenches like snow-covered clods of earth,
Unknowing mirrors of the days and nights that roll over us,
In the foremost trenches, cut off from the help of the world
In front of the gun barrels of the enemies who aim across the level field,
Our breasts, like our raised earth wall, only a defense
Our death cry only a signal for the army
Behind us, We are only the feelers and the nerve cord
On which the burning town in the night and the flare pistols play their song
Every whispered word, heard at the front
Every step, that hisses in the trenches before us
Until the hour of relief nears, when suddenly out of the foggy night
An unknown person stirs us, who will watch for us and continue the fight.
And we reach our comrade, whom we do not see.
Through the fog we grasp his hand and take up the rifle and start to go.
Then before we leave our post,
A bullet lies before us in the snowy clods atop the trenches edge.

By Leo Sternberg
Translated from the German by Peter Appelbaum
30th-Jan-2016 01:00 am - Arseny Tarkovsky, 'Untitled'
Duath
Untitled

A German machinegunner will shoot me in the road, or
An incendiary bomb will break my legs, or

An SS-kid will give me a bullet in the gut.
In any case, on this front, they’ve got me covered.

Without my name, or glory, or even boots,
With frozen eyes I’ll gaze at the snow, blood-colored.

By Arseny Tarkovsky (1942)
Translated from the Russian by Philip Metres and Dimitri Psurtsev


29th-Jan-2016 01:00 am - Yanik Degena, 'No Need, Comrade'
Duath
No Need, Comrade

No need, comrade, in this unceasing pain
Of yours to call for help. Strange, but it’s you
I call to help me, to warm my hands again.
Yes, on your still warm blood I’ll warm mine too…
Do not cry or scream, you're not a child.
You are not wounded, you are simply dead.
But please, let me take off your boots
We have yet to advance.

By Yanik Degena

[Translated from Russian, this is the original:

Мой товарищ, в смертельной агонии
Не зови понапрасну друзей.
Дай-ка лучше согрею ладони я
Над дымящейся кровью твоей.

Ты не плач, не кричи, ты не маленький.
Ты не ранен, ты просто убит.
Погоди-ка, сниму с тебя валенки.
Нам ещё наступать предстоит.
28th-Jan-2016 01:00 am - System Of A Down, 'Soldier Side'
Duath
Soldier Side

Dead men lying on the bottom of the grave
Wondering when savior comes, is he gonna be saved
Maybe you're a sinner into your alternate life
Maybe you're a joker, maybe you deserve to die

They were crying when their sons left
God is wearing black
He's gone so far to find no hope
He's never coming back

They were crying when their sons left
All young men must go
He's come so far to find the truth
He's never going home

Young men standing on the top of their own graves
Wondering when Jesus comes, are they gonna be saved
Cruelty to the winner, bishop tells the king his lies
Maybe you're a mourner, maybe you deserve to die

They were crying when their sons left
God is wearing black
He's gone so far to find no hope
He's never coming back

They were crying when their sons left
All young men must go
He's come so far to find no truth
He's never going home

Welcome to the soldier side
Where there is no one here but me
People all grow up to die
There is no one here but me

Welcome to the soldier side
There is no one here but me
People on the soldier side
There is no one here but me

By 'System Of A Down'

27th-Jan-2016 12:00 am - Ivor Gurney, 'To His Love'
Duath
To His Love

He's gone, and all our plans
Are useless indeed.
We'll walk no more on Cotswolds
Where the sheep feed
Quietly and take no heed.

His body that was so quick
Is not as you
Knew it, on Severn River
Under the blue
Driving our small boat through.

You would not know him now…
But still he died
Nobly, so cover him over
With violets of pride
Purple from Severn side.

Cover him, cover him soon!
And with thick-set
Masses of memoried flowers-
Hide that red wet
Thing I must somehow forget.

by Ivor Gurney
26th-Jan-2016 12:00 am - Leon Gellert, 'Red'
Duath
Red

Place that bayonet in my hand,
And fill this pouch with lead;
Show me the blood and leave me, and let me
Stand
By my dead.

Cover those staring eyes and go
And stab in the red, red rain.
Show me that blood and leave me. They groan
In the snow.
With the pain.

Cover his head with a scarlet cloak,
And run to your scarlet strife,
Show me that blood and leave me, where white
Snows choke
Out the life.

Turn his face to the sanguine skies,
The skies where the red stars move.
Show me that blood and leave me; a dead man lies
With his love.

by Leon Gellert
25th-Jan-2016 01:00 am - Rise Against, 'A Gentlemen's Coup'
Duath
A Gentlemen's Coup

The pain, disorder
A cataclysmic dawn
We trusted but something has gone wrong
We bought it
But woke to find it gone
Impact in 5, 4, 3, 2

Brace, for fallout
The radiation creeps
On cats' feet
We scatter in the streets
She asks me "do you think it's safe to breathe?"
It doesn't look that way to me

We storm the gates
Raise the flags
Just the same old story
We seize the throne
Subjugate
We should have burned it to the ground
Whoah...
(Storm the gates, Raise the flags)
Woah....
(Seize the throne, Subjugate)
Some might say we've lost our way
But I believe we've not gone far enough

Afraid, we cower
To interests not our own
The power to free or to control
We let it slip through
Our fingers to the floor
Watch as the bodies wash ashore
Whoah...
Nobody lives here anymore

We storm the gates
Raise the flags
Just the same old story
We seize the throne
Subjugate
We should have burned it to the ground
Whoah...
(Storm the gates, Raise the flags)
Woah....
(Seize the throne, Subjugate)
Some might say we've lost our way
But I believe we've not gone far enough

And how long will we fall for this?
How long will we fall for this?
How long will we fall for this?
And how long will we fall?

And how long will we fall for this?
How long will we fall for this?
How long will we fall for this?
How long, how...?

We storm the gates
Raise the flags
Just the same old story
We seize the throne
Subjugate
We should have burned it to the ground
Whoah...
(Storm the gates, Raise the flags)
Woah....
(Seize the throne, Subjugate)
Some might say we've lost our way
But I believe we've not gone far enough

By 'Rise Against'

24th-Jan-2016 12:00 am - Sasha Foreman, 'War'
Duath
War

"In bello nihil tam leve est quod non magnae interdum rei momentum faciat" - Livy

Now is the time for eerie wind.
Now is the time for darting rain.
Here young, red leaves tear from the boughs -
And on the grass their heaps are lain.
A premonition’s in the wind,
There’s something hurting in the rain.
And breath is bitter in the air,
To touch wet ground is to fingerpaint.
A cloud’s come from beyond the seas
To bring us tidings of the slain:
The bawl of boys is on the wind,
Their blood is mingled with the rain.

by Sasha Foreman
23rd-Jan-2016 12:00 am - One Republic, 'Come Home'
Duath
Come Home

Hello world
Hope you're listening
Forgive me if I’m young
For speaking out of turn
There’s someone I’ve been missing
I think that they could be
The better half of me
They’re in the wrong place trying to make it right
But I’m tired of justifying
So I say to you..

Come home
Come home
Cause I’ve been waiting for you
For so long
For so long
Right now there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
The fight for you is all I’ve ever known
So come home
Oh


I get lost in the beauty
Of everything I see
The world ain’t half as bad
As they paint it to be
If all the sons,
All the daughters
Stopped to take it in
Well hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin
It might start now, yeah
Well maybe I’m just dreaming out loud
Until then...

Come home
Come home
Cause I’ve been waiting for you
For so long
For so long
Right now there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
The fight for you is all I’ve ever known
Ever known
So come home
Oh


Everything I can’t be
Is everything you should be
And that’s why I need you here
Everything I can’t be
Is everything you should be
And that’s why I need you here
So hear this now...

Come home
Come home
Cause I’ve been waiting for you
For so long
For so long
Right now there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
The fight for you is all I’ve ever known
Ever known
So come home
Come home


By 'One Republic'

22nd-Jan-2016 01:00 am - Mike Subritzky, 'Homecoming'
Duath
Homecoming

That first time he came home,
he spent the entire 14 days,
asleep on the couch with his jeans and boots on.
Lightly tanned woodsmen's boots (I thought),
the kind rich folks with a couple of acres,
and a Remuera tractor might wear...
and I was bloody angry as the couch was brand new.

No postal address while on his Big OE,
just the odd garbling phone call at some ungodly hour,
and the "Hi Dad I'm fine, I'm working in Manchester as a cook."

The second time he came home,
I could immediately see that
haunted look in his eyes,
and the loss of condition...
It was the photographs that did it for me,
especially the one of him dressed in helmet,
flak jacket, combat gear and sporting an M203,
guarding one of Saddam's palaces.

The photographs were hauntingly beautiful,
and his boots were desert pattern combat boots...
(I hadn't noticed).
He had just completed a 12 month Tour of Duty in Iraq
...and I never even knew.

By Mike Subritzky

Remuera tractor: A rich folks' shiny impractical 4 x 4 with road tyres
Big OE: Overseas Experience/Working Holiday
M203: M16/Grenade Launcher combination
21st-Jan-2016 02:00 am - Gordon Alchin, 'Two Pictures'
Duath
Two Pictures

Dawn...
And the dewy plain
Awakes to life and sound -
Where on the flying-ground
The ghostly hangars blaze with lights again.
The giant birds of prey
Creep forth to a new day,
And one by one,
As morning gilds the dome,
Leave the grey aerodrome -
The day's begun.

Dusk...
And the vanish'd sun
Still streaks the evening skies:
Below, the prone earth lies
Darkened, wherever warring Night has won.
The 'planes, returning, show
Deep black in the afterglow,
And one by one
Drop down from the higher airs,
-Down, down the invisible stairs -
The day is done.

By Gordon Alchin
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