Skip to main content

TRAWLING ON A DAY'S LEAVE, 1943

This poem found its home on the Places of Poetry website in June 2019. I loved pinning it at Reculver to give it its own place in the world.

And I received this feedback:
"Day 9 poem of the day. Some excellent poems pinned today (thanks!), including a few moving pieces engaging with military heritage: from an ancient history of warfare evoked by the walls of Colchester, through to World War II. I particularly like this piece, pinned to the coastal village of Reculver, Kent, which juxtaposes the everyday labours of fishermen with the brutal, dehumanizing reality of death at sea."

Oral history links below.





TRAWLING ON A DAY'S LEAVE, 1943 

Too waterlogged to haul over the side
even for the strong arms
of you and your father.

Your roped him to the boat,
tied him on the stern for towing behind.
He couldn't be left to float;
he needed to come out trawling,
the dead man.

You took him with you to catch the tide.
For the living, for the food.

As the boat picked up speed
you couldn't help but watch the almost enthusiastic
movement of his legs as he rode the waves
the three long miles to Reculver.

Back in town, the pineapples you brought from The Azores
were lined up in shop windows for all to see
while you delivered your German airman,
a line of bullets across his back,
to the coastguard station.


Mick Holness Oral History

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

SOMEBODY’S MISSING (Episode 82)

 SOMEBODY’S MISSING     PodBean Link for those who like to listen  This morning the air has been sung in fresh by the dawn chorus. It carries hints of green and fuchsia.   Alt text suggests that this week’s photo is a person sitting on a lawn with flowers. I say it is a photo of my lovely dad and the flowers we chose to celebrate his life at his funeral.   This is the first new month that has started without my dad being here. I’ve learnt that I want to tell everyone what I learned from him. I’ve learned that one of the best things I can think of to do right now is carry forward the very special parts of him to the best of my ability. I’ve also learned that writing some of this down in a poem felt right, but that reading said poem when we gathered together to say goodbye to him required a large hanky and plenty of time for deep breaths.   I am so glad he came into my life when I was young and built us a family to be proud of. There’s so muc...
Post a Comment
Read more

STEPPING OUT FOR SNOOKER BY THE SEA (Episode 74)

STEPPING OUT FOR SNOOKER BY THE SEA  PodBean Link for those who like to listen...    This morning the rain brings a gentle dampness, and the air holds the scent of sap and twigs.    Alt text says this week’s photo is two women taking a selfie. I say it is me and my sister taking a selfie having learned that it is best if we both sit down. When we stand side by side for photos she looks far taller than me and the photos seem a little out of balance. She says I have shrunk. She couldn’t see me at the railway station when she arrived for her visit, and I found myself standing on tip toes and waving a big double handed wave, so perhaps I might just have to measure myself to find out if I have indeed shrunk a little!   We first met up to watch the snooker a year ago, and before this I had never watched it live. We saw Gary Wilson’s 147 break, and laughed at my sister’s impression of me telling her I was suffering from shin splint...
Post a Comment
Read more

TWO SISTERS AND A COW (Episode 80)

TWO SISTERS AND A COW   PodBean Link for those who like to listen This morning the air brings the distinct smell of cut grass. The birds have turned up their dawn chorus songs these last few days and are welcoming the mornings with a vigour that is admirable.   Alt text tells me this week’s photo is ‘two women taking a selfie in front of a cow’. I say it is my sister and I on a country walk encouraging a cow to be in our photo after we have told it how beautiful we think it is.   I have been reminded about a couple of things on recent walks:   Number one: Being dehydrated is not good for me. I often talk to the creatures I see on my walks, but when I was dehydrated recently I became judgemental and called a squirrel naughty and told a sheep it looked like a badger. My sister recounts school days where one orange squash drink and maybe a metallic sip from the water fountain were her drinks for the day. How much better we are at hydrating now. I kno...
Post a Comment
Read more