THE LOVE OF A FATHER
He had been wandering near the cliffs and along the beach
Searching for days, hoping he would find his son..
'Missing in action' they told him..no hope of finding him now.
There was so much debris, so many abandoned dugouts..
Destroyed equipment, parts of tents, dead animals, and mass graves..
Some had wooden crosses, some, parts of uniforms..
Few had names. Here and there, there were departed souls..
Waiting for burial. His heart swelled with sadness..
So many young lives lost.
The battle was over, but the debris remained, shrouded in horror.
He'd been told by many that he would have to accept his loss..
His son wouldn't be returning to the farm. He would be alone..
He heard the birds before he saw them...
They were picking about a pile of discarded ration packs.
He heard a groan, surely no one had survived this carnage..
Maybe, just maybe..he called out as he stumbled towards the rubbish..
The birds flew off and he heard a voice..
He pulled away the heap of rubbish and saw a face, badly injured,
but alive..
'My boy, my boy!' he cried..but not his boy..someone else's son..
Half buried in the dirt. He scraped around him,
freeing him from a heavy plank..
He wore the uniform of the enemy, just a boy,
about the same age as his son.
He couldn't leave him there, his family would be mourning him..
He half carried him, half dragged him to his farmhouse
a short distance away.
The young soldier was confused, not knowing what lay ahead.
He was treated with nothing but kindness and after some time,
recovered.
The war ended and the young man eventually returned to his own home,
never forgetting that it was a father's love for his son,
that had saved his life.
Crissouli 25th April, 2022
