Remains of the Day Northwest Frontier

Taking fire in the morning

A Squad In Process.

I am in the process of painting a squad of British infantry on the Northwest Frontier circa 1897. As I slapped paint I placed the minis to one side. It made an arrangement on my painting bench, quite unconsciously. So I took what I saw and wrote my impression below. It is miserably lacking in detail and truth and perhaps unjustified, mere fancy but there it was nonetheless, words of bitterness and irony and very little glory.

Night Picket

Neither elegies nor apologies
Old Sweats know the score.
It’s us or them, Sergeant growls,
Be them then, the soldiers swear.
Nightly silent scorpion stings
Dagger men come a-calling;
Lean blades mock life deliver
Everlasting farewell kiss.
Wherever the Union Jack still
Flies ’tis due to men like these,
But more to bairns and mams
Asleep in Blighty’s arms.
(all rights reserved,2015)

The remains of the day