Nameless fields

A Poem by Lt. Norman

At Verdun the french bled hard
Somme has taken Britain apart
Belgrade streets are stained with blood
Poppies grow in Flanders fields
But no fame where my soul sleeps

I fell where no one knows the name
Where my last fight had gained no fame
Was it hill, lake of forest i can't claim
No one had seen my bloodstain

At Omaha fortified is land
In El Alamein the desert rats stand
In Stalingrad there calls motherland
At Eben Emael German para's descend
I've walked the land I've flown the skies
Swam through the seas Where my soul lies
My friends and I forgotten were
No tombstone is laid there
No one with a story to share

In Vietnam Hanoi, Pusan in Korea
Golan in Egypt, Misrata Lybia
Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel, Pakistan
Bosna and Crimea, and i have no idea
Wherever elsewhere, some wasted souls lay there

To all those in nameless fields, hills, forests, desserts, or seas
Even though we don't know your faces, names and fears

we shall remember your souls that sleeps

at least once a year when poppies grow

in Flanders fields row on row