Bitterness
In Metz the German dead lie stacked
Beneath the quiet snow
Along the railroad tracks, a wracked
And grotesque iron row
Between the trees, and where the packed
Wire brambles twist and grow.
Their wooden cheeks are dark with stain;
Hoarfrost has iced their hair;
Their broken bodies, shrunk with pain,
Claw upwards in despair.
The fortress City of Lorraine
Is guarded by their stare..
The ghouls have had their business way
Among these frozen dead;
Some stripped of boots, some with their grey
Ring fingers clipped instead,
And some have even been the play
Of dogs, who must be fed..
These are the vaunted “Waffen Korps”
The cold embalms so well;
God damn their souls forevermore
And may they rot in Hell!
We wanted peace, they wanted War
So leave them where they fell..
Lieutenant Grady L. McMurtry, U. S. Army
1/10/45
Note: Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, January 1995.