Submitted by Greg Olson in the 18+ category

November 11- a date some soldiers dread,

Memories of sleeplessness, blood, cold and the dead,

Of hunger, thirst, flies and the hole,

The ever increasing casualty roll.

I hear the bagpipes and the drums,

I cover my ears, I drink the rum.

My tears flow freely for the friends I lost,

My people, my country, my freedom, this is the cost.

Thank you for remembering my hidden sorrow,

I’ll soldier on for today and tomorrow.