Poem: War Re-enactor

One big hobby of mine is doing World War II re-enactments in Austin. I've been doing them for over four years now. In my English class, we had to right our own poems about pretty much anything we wanted. It was by far the most emotional assignment I've ever seen in class, some people wrote very funny poems, while others wrote some very touching and heartbreaking ones. So here's the one I put together for the class, hope you like it:

War Re-enactor

Sometimes it's hard to explain,
but it's a feeling that we all attain.
In the treeline, the company sits
waiting for the command to begin our skit.

In the distance, I see the enemy
trying to hide like a clown fish in a sea anemone.
My ear plugs are in, drowning all sound.
Our artillery strike will soon be inbound.

As we wait, anticipation fills my heart.
I think of what it was like before the allies would start.
Faster my pulse pounds,
I decide to load my M1 rounds.

As I look around me, it looks as though
I am actually there 65 years ago.
Everything on us is real,
our dedication gives us such zeal.

Finally, the mortars eliminate their scouts,
"G Company, attack!" the captain shouts.
All of the soldiers immerge from the forestry.
Here we are, the 36th Infantry!




I advance with the unit with no fear,
barb wire and tank obstacles we must clear.
"Move faster!" they yell to me.
All I can do is hope the Germans wont see.

The squad holds me in such high esteem,
for I must cover the engineer team.
I squeeze the trigger and my M1 barks,
hoping my bullets will find their marks.

Down low I keep my head,
picturing the enemy rounds cracking overhead.
Exposed we are in the open field,
only a helmet serves as my shield.

The emotions I try to express,
just as the veterans were filled with such stress.
I frantically reload my rifle,
making sure the enemy stays stifle.

Finally the barricade explodes to my right flank.
We now have room to move the Sherman Tank.
Through the opening I move on through,
the barriers are now askew.

I advance next to a house,
defending inside, a man named Klaus.
Frag grenades are tossed in,
eliminating the defenders that hail from Berlin.


The remaining are still pinned down,
trying to defend what's left of this town.
Again, we press ahead.
behind me I hear the clanks of the tank tread.

Towards the enemy we charge full sprint,
we hope they will take the hint.
"Hands up!" we all yell,
certain death to any that would rebel.

Out of the building the Germans walk.
We have secured one more block.
But you see, what I have to reveal,
is that this battle was not real.

Hundreds of people stand up and cheer,
after seeing a show we do twice a year.
We walk to them, ejecting our blanks.
At the same time, we fall in our ranks.

The casualties get up too,
and pick up the grenades that we just threw.
Everybody is awed by the fake fight,
and the company marches out of sight.

But it's more than just "playing war,"
we're showing you all what they fought for.
We all take a trip back in time,
to show you what it was like on the American front line.


So pay tribute, not glorify.
This show was not meant to horrify,
but to express our gratitude,
and build for them a positive attitude.

To history we are key factors,
to do our job as war re-enactors.

First Post

Well I finally got around to creating this. This blog was made so I can post things that are a bit more personal to me, and a way to show my writings to the world. I'll post them periodically.

The short stories I have already written and going to post on here include:

Nacht der Untoten

Ghillie In The Mist

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
- Prologue
- Chapter 1: Crew Expendable

Discipline (work in progress)

Keep checking this blog. I expect to post more often here then my film blog.

-Indy