Dearest Mother, though I took my brother’s place at the front of the line,

I became him, I took his name

To spare the family honour, I must admit I am scared

Of being in this insane and absurd battlefield game.

In my wisdom, I believed the words they said

When for home by Christmas I would be by your side

Now as mustard gas shines like some evil suitor dishing out charming lies

Across No Man’s Land

I feel for those women who will lose husbands, sons, lovers tonight

As in every night as the bullets travel the short distance

Across Hell.

I miss you my Mother and my brother too

And though people tried to give him the white feather

I took it in his place

In the cold, wet damp Earth, where rats and bullets and gas and Death

Trade lives in a single breath.

Though this may be No Man’s Land

There is room for a woman

For a girl to fight for you.

Ian D. Hall. 2013.