Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori
Lauren Howitt
(Birmingham)
Dulce est Decorum est Pro Patria Mori
It is sweet and right to die for your country.
Proud I was
Joining the army aged just nineteen
My friends and I
Overjoyed, ecstatic, hopeful
As long as I was home by Christmas
That was their promise.
Pride filled my heart, my heroic heart.
I was serving my king and country,
If only I knew the horrors that stood before me.
I had entered the Devil’s playground.
Death was in the air, I could taste it.
Screams deafened me,
Men, young and old, lay around me, motionless.
Earth’s explosions erupted from the ground
Destroying everything,
Trees burning to ash.
I was fighting on the frontline, the first line,
The first to be gassed, first to be killed.
In the distance, I could hear the shrieks of men
Their lungs burning in the lime
Spluttering loudly,
Until finally, they drew their last breaths.
From that day on,
I lived dreading everything.
Afraid of not waking,
Always wondering
If each day would be my last.
My heart pounded with fear,
I was terrified, homesick,
And we weren’t back for Christmas, like they promised.
That was war.
I feel sorrow for those
Who lost limbs and loved ones.
The many lives, young and old.
I will never forgive those who sent us to war.
They lied to us, lied to our families back home
They lied to everyone
The biggest lie ever told.
Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori,
It is sweet and right to die for your country.