BY BARRY BASDEN
Mobile Canteen
I served tea to UXB teams. Boring, really, until the day I drove up to a great smoking hole, not a man left.
**
Shelter
Dampness soaks into our bones. Planes, ack-ack, and bombs sound closer. I snap on the BBC’s silly play. We sit, wait, listen.
**
Last Night’s Bombing
We dug out Mum and Dad, laid them beside the others. When the king came to see the damage, some cheered, but I booed.
**
Pilot
Coming out of the pub, we saw him parachute into Ted’s field. We grabbed our pitchforks and ran to make sure he didn’t get out alive.
**
Bombardier
Home on leave, I saw women and children sifting through ruins. First time I thought of my bombs doing the same thing over there.
***
Barry Basden realizes that life is a finite adventure, not a dress rehearsal. Few things surprise him, not even endless war. He especially enjoys a good breakfast and editing Camroc Press Review at http://www.camrocpressreview.com.
A-Minor 
the different perspectives make the view so real!
thanks for shedding more light.
chella
The ending brings it home for me. Exactly who’s kids are we saving–and what for? The violence upon violence. If we murder the murderers who’s to tell the difference? Nice job here.
excellent. i have read another piece by you on this time in history and i find your perspective unique and compelling. when i read this i thought i would like to see (or rather: hear) this as a radio play.
like these short sharp hints very much.
[…] at A-Minor is a short, short story from Barry […]
Barry – we are there. Beautifully done, if anything about war can be said to be beautifully anything. War is never justified. Ah, but that’s an entirely different story.
Alice Folkart
Thanks, everyone. I’m glad it gave you a brief idea of those days.