Morrison writes new poem, "Redacted", in response to Mackintosh's "Recruiting"
I've been shocked by the tender age of some of the British soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan: would armies exist if no one under 25 was allowed to fight? Wilfred Owen has poems that touch on this theme, but I've chosen something less well known that I came across in a 50-year-old anthology – Ewart Alan Mackintosh's "Recruiting", which dissects the jingoistic doublespeak used to persuade young men to go to war. My poem was partly inspired by its plain speaking – but much more so by the death of a young man my son was at school with, Mark Evison, and by the book that his mother Margaret as written about her struggle to discover how and why he died.
"Redacted" by Blake Morrison
"The raw material for the inquest was a substantial document … It was initially so heavily redacted by the MOD that it was almost impossible to understand." – Margaret Evison, Death of a Soldier
This poem has been redacted
In the interests of national security.
It's an inquest into the death of a serving officer
Heard at a Coroner's Court for the MOD.
On May 9th 20____ Lieutenant ____ ______, who had begun
His first posting, at Fort _______ , just 12 days earlier,
Undertook a routine patrol with members of his platoon,
Including two guardsmen and an interpreter.
It was the aftermath of the poppy harvest
And their instructions were to dominate the ___ area of Helmand,
By repelling Taliban insurgents
And winning local hearts and minds.
Five minutes after leaving base they came under fire
And took cover in a compound, behind a high mud wall,
Where Lieutenant ______ tried to radio for reinforcements,
Briefly standing in the entrance doorway to get a signal –
Which was when the bullet hit, finding the gap
Between his body armour and his collar bone
And knocking him flat on the sandy ground.
"Man down," his colleagues shouted, "Man down."
Guardsman ____________ radioed for a helicopter
While Guardsman _____, the team medic, wiped the blood
From the hole in his right shoulder (the size of a 50p coin),
Staunching the flow with a field dressing as best he could.
Still under fire, Lieutenant ______ was placed on a stretcher
And carried through irrigation ditches back to base; the ride
Was bumpy but he kept talking as he lay there
And even asked for (and was given) a cigarette.
While awaiting the arrival of the helicopter team,
He was injected with morphine in his right thigh.
And a Hemcon bandage applied to the wound,
But his pulse was slowing – the bullet had ruptured an artery.
The Blackhawk helicopter arrived forty minutes later.
During the flight Lieutenant ______ suffered a cardiac arrest.
And though operated on in hospital at Camp ____ ____
He failed to recover consciousness.
Further tests at ______ hospital in the UK, following his transfer
By plane, confirmed the absence of brain activity.
Parents and friends spent time at his beside
Before the life support machine was turned off next day.
The poem's sympathies are with his family for their loss
But it is satisfied that everything possible was done
To save the life of Lieutenant ______
And it therefore refutes any suggestion
That his body armour offered scant protection,
That his Bowman Radio did not work properly,
That the medical equipment supplied to the troops was inadequate,
And that the 65-minute delay
Between the bullet hitting and the helicopter landing –
The product of a communication failure or of
A navigation error on the part of the pilot –
Was what cost Lieutenant ______ his life.
Nor can the poem judge whether his deployment
As platoon commander on his first tour of duty
In an area notorious for insurgents and snipers
Was negligent to the point of criminality.
As to claims that the war in Afghanistan is unwinnable,
That teenagers are being used as cannon fodder and that
Their deaths serve no purpose whatsoever –
To comment would be inappropriate.
In short, after hearing all the evidence,
The poem concludes that Lieutenant ______ suffered injuries
That were regrettable but unsurvivable.
While on active service for his country,
His death being the result of 1a) necrosis of the brain
Due to 1b) major blood loss due to 1c)
A gunshot wound. Signed, ______ ______ ______, Coroner,
Acting independently for the MOD.
"Recruiting" by Ewart Alan Mackintosh
'Lads, you're wanted, go and help,'
On the railway carriage wall
Stuck the poster, and I thought
Of the hands that penned the call.
Fat civilians wishing they
'Could go and fight the Hun'.
Can't you see them thanking God
That they're over forty-one?
Girls with feathers, vulgar songs –
Washy verse on England's need –
God – and don't we damned well know
How the message ought to read.
'Lads, you're wanted! over there,'
Shiver in the morning dew,
More poor devils like yourselves
Waiting to be killed by you.
Go and help to swell the names
In the casualty lists.
Help to make the column's stuff
For the blasted journalists.
Help to keep them nice and safe
From the wicked German foe.
Don't let him come over here!
'Lads, you're wanted – out you go.'
There 's a better word than that,
Lads, and can't you hear it come
From a million men that call
You to share their martyrdom?
Leave the harlots still to sing
Comic songs about the Hun,
Leave the fat old men to say
Now we've got them on the run.
Better twenty honest years
Than their dull three score and ten.
Lads, you're wanted. Come and learn
To live and die with honest men.
You shall learn what men can do
If you will but pay the price,
Learn the gaiety and strength
In the gallant sacrifice.
Take your risk of life and death
Underneath the open sky.
Live clean or go out quick –
Lads, you're wanted. Come and die.
0 comments:
Post a Comment