The Known Soldier

A Shakespearean sonnet by Liùsaidh

                       Truth is the first casualty of war

Remember them, we etch on walls of pain
We lay the wreaths, we offer our salutes,
Unnumbered crosses on some poppied plain:
Interred beneath lies mustard gas, …

My Lai Conversation

How old are you, small Vietnamese boy?
Six fingers. Six years.
Why did you carry water to the wounded soldier, now dead?
Your father.
Your father was enemy of free world.
You also now are enemy of free world.
Who …