Written In Flanders (2 Poems) 2014

White Feathers White feathers are worn by doves, by angels, by swans Women gave them to men they branded cowards (In a cock fight, pure-bred fighters showed no white) Private Ernest Atkins, on leave from the Western Front. Was riding a tram when the girl beside him Turned to give him the feather He smacked her across the face with his pay book Said: 'Thanks, I'll take it back To the boys at Passchendaele. I'm only in civvies Because folk think my uniform's lousy But it's not half as lousy, girl, as you." Touring Flanders,2014, read & overheard on board the bus I've got an attic with a dormer window Not a mansion but it suits us both Officers slept in dug outs, men made do With 'funk holes' dug in the side of the trench. They slept under overcoats along with the lice and rats Those continental breakfasts give me piles Lice caused Trench Fever, took three months to cure. Red slugs oozed from mud and rotting flesh Corpse rats ate bodies, peed out Weil's disease Frank couldn't understand a word they said They call that English? Not the kind we speak! And what a stink came off that farmer's midden! Mustard gas was oily, blistered skin That festered, causing horrid mutilation Listen campers, we're not Johnny Foreigner We'll let them know we'll all be eating early Phosgene gas was said to smell like hay The victim died by choking on his tongue Did you know we've got a reptilian tongue? It's true, the way we actually taste water 400,000 Tommies caught VD The Belgians say that all the whores were French Our country's morals have gone down the pan Those single mums…kids who don't know their father The winter of ‘16 saw a flour shortage. Trench food could be pea-soup with horse-meat chunks. Weeds, nettles, leaves would whip up stews. Someone raided my veggie plot last week Irritant gas is colourless, poisons the blood Men breathe it. Vomit, cough, and quickly die Our hotel bedroom stinks of cigar smoke I'm going to complain, demand a refund The catering staff put food in cooking pots In petrol cans, old jam jars to send out. But when it reached the front it was stone cold. I always tell the grandkids ‘clean your plate' I ate the widow's mite, asparagus Chlorine gas was yellow-green in colour It smelt like bleach, attacking lungs and nose A million men on both sides died by gassing She had a workman in to clear the drains Clogged up with fat from all those greasy fries Flanders was flooded in 1917 The wettest weather on record for 70 years I've my umbrella here…it's spitting rain Look at those farms! So rich! Subsidized from all us mugs in Britain La Basse Cour in Belgium, an attractive farm Set in acres on the Messines Ridge The problem lies with an unexploded bomb Still there,80 feet beneath the farm, Potential for redevelopment might cover it. Farmers reap an iron harvest still Mines, mortars, shells and skeletons of course Oo look at all those cyclists in their lycra Help for Heroes. Oh, the thighs on them! Trench Foot was caused by filthy, damp conditions. Untreated, it can lead to amputation 20,000 British Army soldiers suffered With trench foot in the winter of '14. They should settle every war by a game of football But Germany would win on penalties To pass the time in the trenches, men killed lice Running a candle flame across cloth seams I've just been here two days. Ten mozzie bites! Martin's bought a Saab, and with the top down Whoosh…you really feel the turbulence British tanks had genders, male and female Male tanks had cannon, females had machine guns The policeman slapped her wrist, said ‘Get off home dear' Russian women joined ‘The Legion of Death' They captured over 100 German soldiers His hands got impetigo with the filth His legs were chaffed red raw with soiled puttees The average service time of a British pilot In ww1? Eleven days at the front. More than half were killed whilst still in training. Many were in their teens. A strange existence By day, they lived in chateaux, playing croquet, Swimming in beautiful pools and eating well Then off, to do the most dangerous job on the Front. My sister's got a villa outside Paphos We thought, ‘This year we'll do the War instead.' The French slang for a soldier was ‘le poilu' (The hairy one) .8 million of them died In England, you go 3 miles down the road Then accents change. Don't start me on the Irish! A duck pond leads to Lone Tree Cemetery. These are graves of the Royal Irish Rifles, Many killed when the Allies blew a mine Buried alive in rubble…friendly fire Two Spanish women shared our breakfast table And never said ‘Excuse me'. What a cheek! And by the way, the Belgians can't do tea It tastes like mud. I'd rather have a latte Fritz Haber researched mustard gas, that killer. His wife, with his service pistol, shot herself My father cycled every day to the bank Wearing his bowler hat. He was a trooper! I'm not a twitcher, but I do like birds 100,000 pigeons flew in the war If you wounded a homing pigeons …6 months jail! Back home they're taking over. It's a disgrace Our jobs, our schools, they drain our social service Belgium was occupied for four long years Bridges were blown. Roads blocked. Land, women, raped. Folk killed, displaced, whole towns turned refugee Belgian civilians used as slaves in camps The usual weary list of atrocities We know for sure that our village of Overijse, Was liberated by Scottish troops at the end, Gordons, who fought in the village of Rosières?