Armand.
Vieil Armand.
Old Armand.
Almost silent Armand.
...
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Does anyone ever really die for their country? My father always scoffed at any notion of heroism, even though he was up close and personal at the Normandy landings. Whenever the subject of patriotic duty came up, he always argued that he didn't go for 'King and country'. 'We all went to war because we bloody-well had to', he always said. As always, Tony, this is a masterly piece summoning up all the quiet poignancy of the war memorial. The feeling of futility and waste is evident throughout as, once again, you bring us face to face with the inanity and sadness of war.
u are a gem that keeps on shining..marvelous poem..bravo
Tony, this is an exceptional poem. The first verse herald's your subject with originality and the gentlest touch of irony, when the birds refuse to conform to the muted 'respect' expected. Your use of 'mort pour la France' as a sort of ironic chorus works beautifully to give the reader time to digest the narrative and emphasize your difficulty in acception the notion of some sort of ultimate heroism beyond the personal. The verse about the Arab soldier and his newly constructed memorial has just the right amount of outrage and overall, the poem is lyrical, and well paced with plenty of rhymes that flow pleasingly from your masterful pen. In this poem the reader is able to sympathize with the combatants while deploring the craziness and stupidity of war. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥