By: D.A. Nicholson
*Available directly from our distributors, click the Available On tab below
This little book of war poetry is a reminder, if ever we needed one, of all those young men who have fought in wars: those who left and never returned; those who came back wounded, limbless, blind, disfigured and gassed; those who came back apparently unscathed but still had horrifying stories to tell of what had happened to them.
This book is dedicated to all those who sacrificed their lives.
And yes, we will always remember!
David Anthony Nicholson was born on 13th July 1948 in the city of Kingston‑Upon-Hull. He went on to be a qualified joiner.
He has been married to his wife Jean for 52 years and they have two grown-up children.
David’s hobbies include sculpture, poetry, short stories, and fishing.
He worked in the construction industry for over 40 years.
D.A.Ns Little Book Of War Poetry by D.A. Nicholson is absolutely heartbreaking and very powerful.
The poems cover the major conflicts since World War I but with a heavy loading set during the war to end all wars.
We hear about the mud, the terror, the gunfire. Under the masterful pen of D.A. Nicholson, the terrible images spring to life as we ‘see’ the desolation of war.
There are a few poems set in Iraq and Vietnam. We hear of the terrible cruelty of the Holocaust. We ‘see’ men being given white feathers and shot for cowardice. We hear of the total futility of war, the terrible loss of lives as men are used for cannon fodder.
All the poems are powerful. The one that really affected me was Bright, Shining Light about the atomic bomb being dropped from Enola Gay. It was accompanied by a drawing of what is now the peace museum. It really shows the futility of war:
“Men, women, and children, getting on with their lives, on this warm summer’s day,
The world changed forever when they dropped the atomic bomb from the Enola Gay.”
Another poem that deeply affected me was called Souls Lost & Found about a man lying on the battlefields for a hundred years before he was found:
“One hundred years have passed by now,
They finally found me, named me, and laid me down to rest.”
