ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

‘The Battle for Polygon Wood’

Our brave young soldiers went off to war.
Finding themselves on a distant shore
away from friends; away from their kin
they knew this battle they had to win.

They had no clue of what lay in store;
no thought of dying or blood and gore.
They’d be fighting a deadly enemy
unknown what would be their destiny.

They found themselves in Polygon Wood
surrounded by foe, their ground they stood.
Up to their knees in water and mud,
surrounded by death, bodies and blood.

The task – to capture the ground up high,
our soldiers waited as time went by.
Angst was high as the battle drew near.
They’d soon be facing rifle and spear.

Scheduled to start just before dawn
soldiers waited, prepared for the morn.
Checking rifles with bayonets fixed;
prepared for battle; emotions mixed.

Their foe packed troops for a victory.
This fight would go down in history.
Hiding thousands, prepared for attack;
this ground they knew they had to win back.

But, our boys fought hard and held their ground
and many a foe was shot and downed.
Our wounded and dead numbered too high
too many screamed their last battle cry.

The battle thundered for months on end;
the bloody enemy wouldn’t bend -
they held to the hope of victory.
Our boys changed the course of history.

There were two divisions of Aussie men
joined by the Brits this land to defend;
the creeping barrage ploughed on ahead
the battle had now become widespread.

The frontage spread for nearly five miles;
amongst our men were very few smiles.
Counter attacks were desperate and strong
but we moved on through the dreadful throng.

The ground was so dry the shells raised dust,
but moving ahead they knew they must.
The muck so thick they could hardly see -
no guarantee of a victory.

Smoke and dust mixed with mist from the ground
did nought to abate the dreadful sound,
but leading waves overran their foe.
For Germans this was a dreadful blow.

Many lives lost as strongholds were crushed;
the mortal rival was finally hushed.
The battle’s success was soon understood -
victory at last at Polygon Wood.


© Jakki May

Good on you Jakki for having a shot at it and a long one at that

Couple of nit picks that are more personal perhaps than poetic and others may not agree.

They’d soon be facing rifle and spear.

Spear didn't work for me. I thought it was a reference to a bayonet but then you mentioned bayonet in the next stanza. Were they really using spears???

but leading waves overran their foe.

Again waves didn't work for me. It had a naval intonation even though I know that you are referring to wave after wave of ranks of men advancing. Would ranks perhaps work better?

The ground was so dry the shells raised dust,
but moving ahead they knew they must.
The muck so thick they could hardly see -
no guarantee of a victory.

There is IMO a bit of disparity here because earlier they are standing in mud and yet here the ground is dry and then we have muck - I think the ground surface could be dry but in the trenches it would be muddy due to seepage . My feeling was the word muck kind of muddied the waters a bit.


Reading it it felt a bit bumpy - so I had a fiddle and came up with this - yours to use or lose


Our brave young soldiers went to war.
Finding themselves on distant shore
away from friends; away from kin
they knew this battle they must win.

They had no clue what was in store;
no thought of dying, blood and gore.
They’d fight a deadly enemy
unknowing of their destiny.

The battle ground ? Polygon Wood.
Surrounded, these men bravely stood
up to their knees in stinking mud,
amidst the dead, bathed in their blood.

The set task ? To capture high ground.
Our men waited. Clock hands went round.
Men’s angst was high. Battle drew near.
They’d face the rifle, face their fear.

Scheduled to start just before dawn
soldiers waited, prepared for morn.
Checked bandoliers. Bayonets fixed.
Battle prepared , emotions mixed.

Odds were against their victory.
But this fight captured history.
Enemy readied for attack
numbered in thousands. We fought back

All our boys fought hard, held their ground
and many a foe shot and downed.
Our dead and wounded numbered high.
Many screamed their last battle cry.

For months the battle ebbed and flowed
the men were tired, at times it slowed;
the enemy just would not yield.
Those Aussie boys wanted the field.

Two divisions of Aussie men
joined with the Brits, sworn to defend.
The shell barrage ploughed fields ahead.
This battle had become widespread.

Its front was nearly five miles wide
our blokes now had few smiles to hide.
Counter attacks desperate and strong
saw our advance through bloodied throng.


Cross ground so dry the shells raised dust,
but move ahead they knew they must.
At times so thick they could not see -
nor guarantee a victory.

Smoke and dust mixed. Mist from the ground
did nought to dull the dreadful sound,
as Aussie ranks beat back their foe.
To German troops, a dreadful blow.

So many lost, strongholds were crushed;
before the Aussies final thrust.
Victory at Polygon Wood
for Aussie heroes who withstood.

Hope this helps - but it is your poem, these are merely suggestions offered in friendship

Cheers

Maureen

I always appreciate your comments, Maureen and will take them on board.

Thanks
Jakki