That's Why They Go To War

                                               

The bombers are flying high tonight, mother

Like silver birds they fly so high

I wish I could be in the bombers mother

Spinning white trails through the sky.

From the bombers you see, mother

The land is a picture, flat, brown and green

And the blood and the tears, mother

Remain ever unthought and unseen.

From the bombers, you see, mother

The target, whatever it’s been

School, house, or trench full of soldiers, mother

Is just a grey picture on a little screen.

The picture blows apart most satisfactorily, mother

When from heaven the bombs of freedom fall  

And TV news can show the world, mother

Green glow images of a demolished wall.

Not for bomber crew the images, mother

Of children who went to sleep

Thinking they were safe in the arms, mother

Of parents who can now just weep -

Looking at the bloody stumps, mother

Of some future footballer’s legs now gone

But things like that must, you know, mother

Be ignored if wars are to be won.

And iron wheels go roaring by, mother

As tanks crush beneath their tread

The fields from which men and women, mother

Spent sweat to win their daily bread.

You see the tanks passing, mother

In uniform the soldiers look so fine

Their eyes are fixed on the horizon, mother

Not here and now like yours and mine.

The soldiers look to the future, mother

To the horizon wreathed in flames

They fight for the nation, mother

They aren’t here to play silly games.

Emotion is not a winner, mother

In a world where might is right

And the soldiers know the truth, mother

That is why they go to fight.

You look into their eyes, mother

Why do you wonder that they cannot see

What to you is one thing, mother

Is quite another to them and me.

No wonder, then, believe me, mother

That they crush beneath their tracks

The little children the bombers killed

Lying in the open on their backs.

Life is just a stray incident, mother

Death comes as the end.

And what is the here and now, mother

Slides forever round the road’s sweeping bend.

The soldiers and the bombers know the truth, mother

That it’s better each time and by far

To do than to be done unto, mother

And that is why they go to war.  

Copyright B Purkayastha 2007