The Common Soldier

The common soldier Once motherland I remember well often with a patina of unbecoming sentimentality. I was born there, once birthplace is a magnet it never loses its charismatic power even though what I remember is poverty, the endless struggle of the working class. I have a few good memory and they too are in a way unbecoming. There was a war the occupier’s soldiers gave me chocolate and snacks, they had horses and let me sit on them playing cowboy; yes the cowboys are universal liked. My experience has coloured my adult life I’m not so quick in my condemnation the world is not black and white but has many nuances; war is not what a soldier wants but at times he has to fight a war that is not of his choosing but he has to shoulder the aftermath.