Young Nicolai was made to fight.
He didn’t think that it was right
but sometimes men just have to do
what men are told and march on cue.
The Leader said, now, here’s a sword,
chop someone up if you get bored
but make sure it’s the enemy.
You’re going on a jolly spree
and there’s a shield to keep at bay
those you may meet with on the way:
unpleasant types that might resist
your presence, but you must insist
their land is yours, you have the right
to seize it. Should they dare to fight,
just do some chopping, kill a few
and lots of medals will accrue.
Young Nicolai was very scared
and as a soldier, unprepared,
to go off with a sword and shield
to battle in a neighbour’s field.
To his surprise, when he got there
it didn’t really seem quite fair:
the enemy had such small knives
and some of them were daughters, wives,
in fact, not quite the monsters he
was told the enemy would be:
they had no swords or shields at all.
A stout babushka in a shawl
waved her old fist and cried, go back
(a strange way to repel attack).
The worst of it was that they seemed
so much like him. He never dreamed
that enemies, the sort we cuss,
are pretty much the same as us.
Brave Nicolai fought a good fight:
he chopped to left, he lopped to right,
but, by the time that he had stopped,
so many still remained un-chopped.
It seemed that they would not submit.
He tried to make some sense of it.
but, though he pondered, long and hard,
amidst the rubble, black and charred,
no answer came. That’s hardly strange,
for war is war. Things never change.
Richard Fleming
Image : Berserker - one of the Lewis Chessmen
