Merry Christmas, 1944 by Marc J. Yacht

Merry Christmas, 1944

Marc J. Yacht

 

They marched and killed here

There were Germans, Americans, Allies

Civilian men, women and children

Their spirits float in the Ardennes.

 

Now tranquil, with little revelation

Of  the human slaughter

Those men and machines

On the road to Bastogne.

 

Graveyards honor the dead

But the spirits remain

Among the ice and snow

Littered among the trees.

 

St. Vith, Malmedy

Tanks, propelled artillery

Jeeps, Half Tracks

Human fodder blown apart

lay frozen in the sleet.

 

A hopeless offensive

Known by the high command

Some call it Custer’s last stand

Yet men women and children, died.

 

Towns untouched through years of war

Flattened

Century old bridges destroyed

And the carnage continued.

 

The road to Bastogne

Spoiled by blood, lead, and steel

Now haunted woods

Where souls remain forever.

 

I walked those woods

In the Spring

The sun broke through

Unending cloudy skies.

 

But I felt the presence

Of those who more

Than half a century ago

Never left these woods.

 

Few remain but the tale is told

How one Christmas the gift of death

Laid many friends

And enemies to rest.