At school we still fought the war. As Germans
we learned it was our duty to die, with curdled
screams, and roll three times, and lie as still
as we could with eyes closed - arms outstretched
like Christ. And like Christ, we would rise again
and be reborn as Englishmen, sloping off
with imaginary Sten guns to our base
behind the toilet block. And, await the call
to battle, while excitedly discussing who
died best. Then out we'd come on the charge,
tossing grenades and spraying anyone who moved
with gutteral machine gun fire and boom of bombs,
never in a straight line, always on the dodge,
just like we knew what war was.
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