An Old Veteran's Tale

BY THE WATERS THAT BABBLED ON
WE CROUCHED IN SHELL HOLES
ERIE SHADOWS MADE BY STAR SHELLS
RUMBLING AND FLASHES OF CANNON
STACCATO SOUND OF RIFLE FIRE

WE WERE IN RETREAT
WE WERE HURRYING
TO MAKE A NEW DEFENSE LINE

OUR SQUAD'S JOB
WAS TO BLOW THE BRIDGE
AND PROTECT OUR WOUNDED

WE WERE SHORT OF TRUCKS
WE WERE SHORT OF EVERYTHING

I REMEMBER
ANOTHER TIME
ANOTHER PLACE
ANOTHER BRIDGE

A PICNIC BASKET
WAS ON THE BLANKET
WHERE WE SAT
TROUBLE FREE
AND HAPPY
WELL FED


FROM THE BRIDGE
THEY WERE SHOOTING FIREWORKS
FIREFLIES IN THE SKY
WHILE THE RIVER BABBLED ON

OUR MISSION WAS TO BLOW THE BRIDGE
AND PROTECT THE WOUNDED
THE ENEMY HAD A HABIT OF BAYONETING

BLOW THE BRIDGE
BEFORE THE REFUGEES CROSS
THE ENEMY WOULD MIX WITH THEM
AND INFILTRATE OUR LINES

ON THE BLANKET
OUR ONLY DECISION
WAS
SHOULD WE PUT MUSTARD ON THE HAM

I AM AN OLD MAN NOW
I’VE GROWN TIRED
OF OTHER OLD MEN
SENDING YOUNG MEN
TO SUFFER AND DIE
THERE SHOULD
THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY

ON THE BRIDGE CAME A MOTHER AND CHILD
I THOUGHT IT WAS A MOTHER AND CHILD
I WASN’T SURE
I HAD WOUNDED TO PROTECT
I BLEW THE BRIDGE

THE WIND BLEW THROUGH
MY TRUE LOVE’S HAIR
QUICKLY WE RAN TO THE GAZEBO
TO ESCAPE THE RAIN

WE WON THE BATTLE
THE WOUNDED WERE SAFE
THE BRIDGE WAS BLOWN

BUT WHEN I SEE MY WIFE
HOLDING HER GRANDCHILD
I DO NOT SLEEP EASY
WITH MY MEMORY


FRANK A VOLLMER