Mortars With Crow

Mortars with Crow: a prose poem in eight parts

1. He didn't like war, but he knew war wasn't about liking or not liking. He had gone to war for his own reasons. He could no longer remember the reasons. He grew tired of people who always asked his reasons for going to war. War wasn't about reasons. He was not sure what war was really about, but he knew it was not about reasons.

2. He was concerned about the birds. They had stared at him, had seemed to want to talk to him. One black crow had sat on his knee and looked, with his round beady eyes, into his own eyes.

3. He sat on a hill, surrounded by hundreds of men, no women, that's just how things turned out, Sitting on the hill, he heard a thump and then another thump and then a series of quick thumps. After some of the thumps, he heard men screaming. Mostly they were screaming obscenities. And then the thumping sounds stopped.

4. The crow flew away, but had circled his head three times. The crow had not shat upon him, just gave him a look that seemed to mingle disgust with sadness.

5. Mortars, just mortars. No one had looked an enemy in the eye. Glory, he thought, glory. War is glorious. I have sat on a hill and I have been attacked by the enemy and I have survived to fight again. And so, he continued to sit on the hill.

6. The sun rose and he saw dead men and living men, most of the men were among the living, only two were dead. Flies buzzed around the dead ones until a detail of men hauled them away in plastic bags.

7. He drank water from his canteen. He opened a can of rations and ate peaches. He smoked a cigarette. He had not smoked before going to war. He kept his eyes turned out to the perimeter.

8. There was no attack following the mortar attack, only helicopters buzzing around like flies. A crow flew past his eyes.


H. Palmer Hall

Posted over on War Papers Poetry

This poem obviously grew out of his original prose A WAR STORY.