Sentry ( return to goose green )

We stumbled giddy down the frigid hill,
Gagging over drizzled grass and stone,
Behind the murderous winter slag of sky,
Ahead the ragged barn,
A garment for our nudity,
We rushed into its tattered folds,
In exposures desperation,
Threw caution to the sniperous wind.
And fear reached down my throat,
At what we found within,
No fear in him before us,
Huddled, weapon ready,
Steady gaze at our entrance,
Grin of triumph at our stupidity,
I fumbled without aim...
And fired,
Full in his chest the hit,
Motionless, without remark,
He never blinked an eye,
So fear gouged my open mouth,
Until the revelation,
A frozen mockery of man,
Absent without leave from that tired carcass,
Beyond bullets or nature now,
But duty bound by rigor,
So fear released our tears, unashamed,
And we blessed our luck,
And blessed the weather.

Olias