Foreigners In The Forest.

Distant explosions thunder through the trees,
The world around stops.
My comrades holt with sudden force,
As we stand stagnant,
Fearful amongst the snow.
Heartbeat pulsating in our ears,
Breaths held.

Within seconds we hear orders,
Take cover!
As the lightening-less thunder closes in.
Deafening roars engulf the air,
And splintering bark projectiles.
Soldiers dive,
Curl up and brace.

Some pray,
Some smoke,
Some unable to blink,
Paralysed,
Shell shocked.

Soil hales down,
It’s the most warmth we’ve felt in weeks.
Hidden but vulnerable,
The onslaught begins to lessen.
As the thunder fades into silence,
We slowly begin to emerge,
The only living things to erupt from the disturbed soil.

The tension slowly releases.
We ease but not unguarded.
It is only the snow that crackles under pressure.
Quiet murmuring uptakes,
As the Foxholes reveal my company.
And as foreign life returns in the forest,
The secluded call rings out:
“Medic!…”

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