In Paris a letter arrives,
Addressed to a young Lady -
An American whose fiancé
Is a French Cavalry Officer -
Suffering from severe wounds,
He writes slowly - telling her
Of his last moments of life.
The American lady sits down
Heavily, perhaps the paper
Is stained with mud -
Having lain in a field of dead.
Can a piece of paper store
The battle sounds of guns?
How her lover held this too -
His writing difficult, but clear.
During a cavalry charge,
Perhaps one of the last to be,
The French Officer was hit,
Slumping, he slid from his horse.
Losing consciousness, he felt
Himself spinning heavily -
Thumping onto the ground.
A short time later he began
To write a letter, hoping
It might reach his home -
Otherwise just to melt
In the rain – mud – snow.
Eventually cracking in frost,
Crumbling away to dust.
With honesty, he states how
His chances, are quite gone
For him and two other men,
Who then lay close by him -
So what to write? Knowing
As a man, that you might die.
So he drew a conclusion
Of how he came to be in
That situation – and how
He shared those moments -
He looks sideways and sees
The first man close by
He was British - in uniform
Of a Scottish regiment -
The second man, an Uhlan.
The French Cavalryman
Recounted how, upon waking
He found these two men
Over him, giving first aid
Both soldiers, both strangers.
The German knelt over him,
Trying to stem the wound -
As the Scottish Officer placed
Water to his lips – they were
Themselves wounded.
The Uhlan had shrapnel
To his side - the Scotsman
Weighted by a shattered leg.
The German having supplies
Gave the Frenchman a morphia
Injection, as well as himself -
With pain abated they talked
In ease - now they exchanged
Thoughts and how before war,
Their lives had been lived -
And their women back home.
Hardly a year gone since both
The German and Scotsman
Married – the Highlander,
Mud stained, his face drawn
Was starting to fall asleep -
The Frenchman wondered,
Why then, were they fighting?
The Cavalry man looked upon
That Scotsman, who he saw
Beyond the dirt, as a free man -
Came the thought of his own
Country’s flag, whose tricolour
Symbolised French Liberty.
The Uhlan had ceased to talk,
And taking from his knapsack
A prayer book – he turned pages,
Shakily attempting to read aloud
A script, for the wounded
Soldier, fallen down in battle.
He watched the German speak,
And realized what their fight
Was for - as allies the French
And British man’s purposeful
Legacy, would add to civilised
Peace for this world - while
The Uhlan would die in vain.
As he wrote more, the words
Talked of the coming of falling
Light – still the roar of guns
Went on all about them –
Then this letter, by his fingers
Were found by the Red Cross.
Two days passed – the letter,
Arrived that was to be finally
Touched by the young fingers
Of his fiancée - then she
Learned of his slow death,
By his last written words.
by Jamie Mann.
Anon.,1914.
Battlefield Incidents - Dying Officer’s Letter. The Daily Telegraph,
[online] 21 Dec. p.15. Col.5. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/ww1-archive/11299391/Daily-Telegraph-December-21-1914.html
[Accessed: 9th August 2014].
Mann, J., 2014. 100 years Ago - Poems by Jamie Mann. [letter] (Personal
communication, 21 December 2014).
#WW1 #WW1centenary #GreatWar #WW1poem #GreatWar #ww1centenary
#worldwarone #worldwaroneremembered
