Why

WHY? A Soldier's Anguish A poem by Brian W Fisher dedicated to all soldiers serving in Afghanistan. We left. It was the time of lush green. Deciduous trees sucking moisture to their leaves. It was the way. It was England's way. Soon another season would demand. Those trees forced to trade sap and goodness for the dryness that always came with autumn colour. Bronzed, they lost their tentative hold – fluttered to the earth, the carpet deep and crisp, deadening footsteps that tramped among them. We left. Engines leaving trails of white. The deep azure sky streaked as we soared towards the east. We left. Not alone but in our thousands. A common purpose – duty – it was our duty. Were we not convinced of that? Now those footsteps were no longer softened. The parched earth transferred its sun-baked surface upwards through each step – boots symmetrical patterns imprinted to guide those who followed. We left. Those who loved us pining. No time for us to ponder – no time to reflect. It was our time. One by one our numbers dwindled. Each day saw that happen. Our band of brothers less and less – we saw – we knew – we tried our best. We left. The pals – the men who cared. We watched as the arid earth soaked their blood. We watched when the light faded from their eyes. Then we took. We took their souls – we strengthened our own. It was right. It was what they would have wanted.