A Night Before Stalingrad

Gaurav Gurung

It was a cold night as far as I could remember, 
The trenches were never empty
Smoky on a mound of Earth
Smelt of carcasses and dwelling death
Dawn had forbidden us
Much like how our governments had abandoned us a long time ago
Time left its grim stain on us
Many faces came, many faded-
Some died with valor
Some with false glory
I cursed fate for leaving me alive
I did not want any glory
But now I had a purpose to serve
And desertion would make me 
A traitor- hypocritical for how 
a second of thought could foreshadow 
years of strife. 

The punk had foresaken his mischief
The tailor measured corpses
The poet had put down his pen
The graduate his degree
I remember my life as a fisherman
before all the bustle and goddamn
patriotism took its root. 
The mayor promised us a warm bed, 
food for our families but were they of any good? 
Now that most of the backs to lay on that comfort were buried under soil that claimed no identity. 

A new month- new recruits
Their eyes always at first gleamed with dreams, 
Oh! To slit the enemy, raise the flag above their dead body. 
Only if it were that easy! 
Their eyes always drowned once they witnessed the atrocities. 
New soldiers kept on piling
Much the better for the "big man" to spread their irony. 

Some ol' merry jester once had given us our smiles back
only for him the next day to be shot right between the eyes, 
Since that day- our division had seen no hint of joy
But every now and then we raised our glasses and made a toast to his soul. 

The brave men beside me sobbed and let their tears flow like streams of an unprecedented waterfall. 
We hugged and embraced each other to feel what might've been our last night of company. 
I felt no remorse- no sadness, I had not much to look up to
I knew my battallion was to be wiped the next morning. 
I let out a deep sigh and took out my wallet, 
glancing into the still photo of my massacred family. 
I gently wept and prayed to Almighty
To take me into his arms-
To take me completely
To my family
To my family. 

It was a cold night and time moved slowly
It was a cold night
It was a night before Stalingrad. 

 

  • Author: GG (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 11th, 2025 08:37
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 2
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Comments +

Comments1

  • sorenbarrett

    A dark and tragic piece that speaks of the horrors of war and the losses one suffers. Well imaged and worded it dives into the hopelessness.



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