Life and Death in War

War is just another name for death.
War makes you dead.

Ted Lavender was shot in the head.
Strunk died somewhere over Chu Lai.
Curt Lemon stepped on a booby trapped 105 round.
A slim, dead, dainty young man.
Azar strapped the puppy to a Claymore.
It’s a killer grenade and everybody dies.
Mary Ann Bell joined the ranks of the missing.

A place where men die
Because of careless stupidity.
Playing catch, then he was dead.
Boom. Down. Nothing else.
You were dead, never partly dead.
Dead like cement.
Zapped while zipping.
Bouncing Betties and Toe Poppers.
Booby-trapped artillery rounds.
Damp, fungal scent of an empty body bag.
No drama, down and dead.
It seemed unchristian.
Killing and dying.

War makes you a man; war makes you dead.
But you’re never more alive than when you’re almost dead.
Proximity to death brings with it corresponding proximity to life.