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As I wave goodbye and walk away the kisses and cuddles from my loved ones still fresh in my mind I set my sights on what will be my new daily grind. To Afghanistan I flew to fight for my country, I’m with my brothers, never alone, a promise made to my family. I’m coming home. Day in day out protecting the base, going on patrol our sole aim, avoiding deaths ugly face. Living in conditions that are a right state whilst civvies whinge with hate “you joined up so why do you moan”? I don’t care but if they think they can do better they are welcome to take my place, if they dare. I only know. I’m coming home. Taking fire, it’s all go now need to get across this streambed then, “ pow”, feels like I’ve been punched like a boxer in the final round. All I can hear now is “man down, man down” will this be my last sound? I can see the medics and my mates working on me till I breathe my last as I’m carried from the field under the rotors hurricane blast, it’s finally got through my dome……. I’m coming home. Now they are all gathered round, family crying, mates recalling the best of times, the only sound, I’m carried in my union flag draped coffin on my final journey and laid in the ground, no more crying no more sound….. I’m home.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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Date: 5/6/2014 3:25:00 PM
This is the saddest poem I have read in a long time - such deep emotions expressed - am putting it into favourites to remind me just how lucky we are. hugs Jan xx
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