by Ken Davidson | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry
The Spring floods did it, Those same torrents Which washed the bodies downstream, To festoon the trees near Klujc, The baubles of war, Multihued, lurid, Iridescent: almost. Stinking for former Yugoslavia. They also took the Hungarian Army bridge, On the road to Sanski...
by Ken Davidson | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry
There is no moral high ground on the battlefield, There is only the high ground, And, if you know what you’re about, You’ll damn well grab it. Little Round Top, Vimy Ridge, Montecassino, The Golan Heights, Divis Flats. The high ground: nothing moral there,...
by Ken Davidson | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry
The cooling breeze of their passage, It felt so bloody good, So Micky raised his visor, To glory in the flow of desert air. Lead Rover: top-cover. Minimi to hand, Convoy escort: Shaibah to Basra, Fly the flag: show ’em all who’s boss, Well, we all here...
by Ken Davidson | Jan 1, 2006 | Poetry
It was a day out, A swan around in the Land Rover, A day to prevent me from going stale, Check out the facts on the ground, Bihac is where it can be found Seventh Corps: pride of the Bosniac Army, Let’s see what they’re up to, At the very least it’ll...
