Teenaged soldier 

(credit: Linda Hess Miller, via Wikimedia Commons) 

This is what the monster is capable of. Capable of, Hell! War loves the young and naive. A few weeks ago, the closest this kid had ever been to Heaven was an unhooked bra strap. He's a lot closer now, but he thinks he's immortal. Death happens to other people. Never mind what nation. Every nation, every war. 

Boys. They're just boys. Wanting to be heroes. Get medals. Win themselves a sweetie who will think they are so brave. 

The veterans want 11 days from now till Nov. 11. Okay? No Christmas decorations. Just remember that whatever you think of their cause, their motives, they fought and died for you. 

Lest we forget. 

(credit: James G. Antal, R. John Vanden Burghe, via Wikimedia Commons)

                                            Something Forty Five Something

 

The women of Berlin

Searched stockyards as the Russian troops closed in

For cow manure still contains some calories, you know

And children have to eat

 

Not boys past twelve, of course

From house to church to school to store

Eight blocks away, they fought

In uniforms all baggy on their skinny limbs

Lugged rifles and grenades in grim despair

Were ripped like gruesome dolls

To guard the Bunker.

 

The women of Berlin

Looked on the even smaller boys

Eyes bright as hope

And shrank from any thought

Of what time held

For boys like these

 

For who would teach them now

How to be men?