In 2010 poems have been added to several other pages in this website including the Afghanistan page.
Casualties of war - Iraq and Afghanistan
Deaths in War in Iraq 2003 to 31 December 2009
US soldiers killed - 4,300
UK soldiers killed - 241
Iraqi civilians killed - 100,000 approximately
Deaths in War in Afghanistan 2001 to 31 December 2009
US soldiers killed - 935
UK soldiers killed - 179
Afghan civilians - 30,000 approximately
Statistics from BBC programme, Defining the Decade, presented by Edward
Stourton, Radio 4, 29 December 2009. (With one subsequent UK death added
after the programme went out.)
Poems on this page
Hubert Wilson - Rainbow Death
Sgt John Norbury, Afghanistan, January 2010 - Goodbye
young soldier
Edward Porter - A soldier's demon
Henry M Bechtold - Children in the Darkness
Goodbye Young Soldier
Sgt John Norbury explains how this poem came about:
I was moved to write this following a Vigil Service on 4th Jan 2010 in
Helmand Province . I have a son of my own, he is a similar age to the
majority of these brave young warriors, I can only imagine what the
parents, family & friends are feeling at this time in their loss.
I think when I wrote it I initially wanted for the soldier's family to
read it, to know that others care.
Please take a moment in reading this, say a little prayer for those who
grieve, for those who wait back home.
To those out there, reading this, take care & stay safe.
Goodbye Young Soldier
We said goodbye tonight
To a soldier whom I did not know
He did his duty well
But sadly he had to go
He did not travel this far
To leave behind family & friend
He came to do his duty.
He did not know it would be his end
His short life was just that
A soldier’s ultimate commitment he gave
This earth deserved him longer
He went too early to his grave
He is one of many heroes
Another poor young soldier
For he is not alone
No years left in which to grow older
What comfort lies for those he left
Never again to be by their side
A gallery of happy memories
And deservedly this Nation’s pride
So farewell young soldier
Whilst here you did just right
I hope your life was not a waste
Farewell young soldier, sleep tight.
Sgt John Norbury, Afghanistan, January 2010.
A Soldier’s Demon
A Soldier's Demon
In the fog of war
Believe me, unfortunately I know...
A lot can happen in an instant
In the instant after clear and present danger reveals itself…
Time then slows down, way down
You hear bullets and shrapnel whizzing past you in slow motion,
As if you could reach and pluck them out of thin air...
It is in this moment that you realize that you may be dead…
Before your next thought is able to collect itself in your conscience.
Your finger reaches for the trigger...
You start shooting before you even aim...
As if your entire existence depends on firing your weapon...
You cannot think about anything other than survival...
Not your past, not your family, and not your wife and kids...
All the training means ABSOLUTELY nothing...
No one in your training was willing to die in order to kill you…
Now you start to see red. Different shades of red.
You feel anxious and cosy simultaneously.
You feel inside of the whirlpool and yet on the outside of it as well...
YOU FEEL PROFOUND AND SHALLOW AT THE SAME INSTANT...
BRAVE AND COWARDLY AT ONCE...
Right and wrong means nothing...only alive and dead are on your mind.
WITH A WICKED DEMON AS YOUR SOLE COMPANION...
While you wish for an angel in flight to pass by.
As the dust settles you wonder when, how and why
Your mind is dull, yet your body could begin to fly
Is this the end or just another nightmare that will pass by …
No telling apart the screams of the enemy from a friend’s death cry.
Edward Porter
About Edward Porter
Edward Porter lives in Los Angeles, California. He has provided the
following notes about himself and what inspired him to write the poem.
I am an Ex Brit who has been a US Citizen since 2000. Born in Tehran,
Iran in 1971 to an Azerbaijani mother who is a proud British Citizen and
who is fluent in French culture/language (more than anything she is a
French woman). Raised by my maternal grandparents in Iran until 13, I
saw firsthand the horrors of the Iran-Iraq war (it being the 3rd
bloodiest war of the 20th century). As a pre-teen, I escaped a war-torn
and revolutionary Iran to live with my mother and my British step-dad
who then subsequently moved the family to the USA. I have many friends
and family in the US Armed forces and their experiences are routinely
conveyed to me through firsthand accounts from places like Haiti,
Somalia, Iraq, Afghanistan and Kuwait. Being a trained and passionate
writer, I do not have to experience an event firsthand myself, in order
to be able to write about it as if I had...
I have been there in my thoughts, in my dreams and unfortunately in my
childhood. I have been a writer for over 25 years now, mainly of Novels,
Scripts and hundreds of poems. While being fluent in French, Azari and
Farsi, I have a love and fascination for the English language which I
consider my mother tongue, (in which I am currently writing a Novel
about my experiences regarding my transition/experiences from my
childhood in pre/post revolutionary Iran to my new homes in Europe and
the USA). I am also working on two other Novels in addition,
simultaneously.
I live and work in Los Angeles, CA as a Realtor and a Landscape
Contractor. I also serve on our School District's Governing Board as an
elected Trustee. My family and I live on a ranch in the mountains above
Los Angeles in an area called Santa Clarita. Prior to becoming a Realtor
/ Landscape Contractor, I was employed in the Film Industry in the areas
of Post Production, Production and Distribution.
I consider myself a patriotic American while being quite fond of our
"Closest Friend and Ally", the United Kingdom where my siblings and
parents reside, not mentioning a small piece of my heart.
Rainbow Death
Hubert Wilson
Ssgt USAF, 1968-1972
This small poem speaks of a modern day ingredient of warfare that has caused appalling death and suffering – not only to its intended victims, the Vietnamese people, but also the service personnel that used or even just came into contact with “Agent Orange”.
Wikipedia reports, “Agent Orange is the code name for a herbicide and defoliant—contaminated with TCDD—used by the U.S. military in its Herbicidal Warfare program during the Vietnam War.
According to Vietnamese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 4.8 million Vietnamese people were exposed to Agent Orange, resulting in 400,000 deaths and disabilities, and 500,000 children born with birth defects.[1]
From 1962 to 1971, Agent Orange was by far the most widely used of the so-called "Rainbow Herbicides" employed in the herbicidal warfare program. During the production of Agent Orange (as well as Agents Purple, Pink, and Green) dioxins were produced as a contaminant, which have caused numerous health problems for the millions of people who have been exposed. Agents Blue and White were part of the same program but did not contain dioxins.” To read more in Wikipedia go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agent_Orange
This poem may remind us that wars aren’t over when the wars are over.
DR March 2010
Author’s comments follow the poem.
Rainbow Death
America did not foresee
Green, pink, purple and other colors death potpourri!
Expecting others to pay a high price.
Now thinking twice?
Toll on the innocent and unborn.
Omnipotent and disregarding who will mourn.
Reflective about all the illness, birth defects and prematurely dead.
All the deceit continues to spread.
Nefariously America led astray -
Generations untold WILL pay -
Execrable effects of agent orange spray!
Hubert Wilson
Rumors persist of still another more toxic color coded herbicide at the end of this deadly rainbow!
I am a Vietnam War veteran (as are my four brothers) who served in the USAF Security Service. I, along with a dozen or so intelligence school grads, prepped for about 14 months at Kelly AFB in San Antonio, Texas, before anticipating being sent to Vietnam or elsewhere in southeat Asia in 1970. About half ended up in Da Nang (an Agent Orange hotspot) in the 6924th Security Squadron. The rest of us were assigned to Shemya Island, Alaska, with the 6984th Security Squadron, and what eventually was a MORE contaminated environment than Da Nang!
My health problems started approximately 15 years ago with unexplained headaches and limb pains. Four years ago my central nervous system radically deteriorated with Parkinsonian type tremors, severe headaches, progressive limb pains, etc. No physician has ever diagnosed the specific illness. NO VA physician has ever rendered ANY medical assistance! My number one educated guess is the heavily contaminated drinking water at Shemya during my year there as an intelligence analyst. Organo-phosphate toxins may not run their toxic course until 20 to 30 years after initial exposure.
Since my brain still functions moderately well (and I have mobility issues), I have turned to writing just like my late Father and the late singer (and writer) Johnny Cash.
Hubert Wilson.
To top of page
Children in the
Darkness
Author’s introduction
I was in Vietnam in 1967 - 68 and again in
1969. I go back often because my soul lives in Vietnam and I go back to
visit it from time to time.
I was sitting in my hotel room in Saigon just before Christmas 2009
and I was trying to write a poem about the girls who work in the park
and how badly men treat them. I was angry but unable to write anything
that did not sound trite or weak. I looked at the TV and the news was
on. I did not know what the news reader was saying but in the
background was a photo of a small boy with a helmet and an automatic
rifle. This poem flowed out. The words just came to me and I typed as
fast as I could to get it all down.
Children in the Darkness
There are children in the darkness
Who have not seen the light
There are children in the darkness
Who someone will teach to fight
Chalk and blackboards will not be
To this door there is no key
From this life they can not flee
And these children are not free
Could we simply light a candle
Could we give them half a chance
Could we teach them how to read
Could we teach them how to dance
Or will a war consume them
Their body and their soul
Will their life and blood be poured
Down some endless thirsty hole
Back into the darkness
From which there is no flight
Back into the darkness
Into which there shines no light
Henry M Bechtold
2010