Vergissmeinnicht

Today in humanities class I read a poem by Keith Douglas written in 1943. For my homework I have written "a journal entry" of the man who is found dead in the poem.

It was no more than just a few months ago that I last saw my girl, Elise. I remember her golden blond hair tied with the a satin ribbon tied the last time I saw her. I said my final good-bye to her as I boarded the train to my military camp. This might have been the last time I would ever see her. I did not mention that to her, because if I did it would only upset her more. She made me promise to never for one moment on my journey forget her. She then placed a small photograph in a golden frame in my hands. This picture was of her and on it she had signed "Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht" or Steffi, forget-me-not.

Today, wherever I turn I see blood and heartache. The only thing that keeps me going is seeing this picture of her; one of the only things I can remember her by. Although the weather has only gotten hotter and dryer by every minute, this war has only become colder and more bitter. I miss my Elise more and more with every minute I am away. I have written many letters to her, but have only received one in response. This brief letter was filled with more happiness and joy than I can ever remember feeling. This is what it read-

My Dear Steffi,
I have missed every minute since you left me on that train station those few months ago. I will not be lonely for much longer, for when you come home you will be he father a newborn baby.
Love,
Elise

I long for the day when this war will end and I can go home to see my Elise and (for the first time) my baby boy. General says that in a few days we will moving to the "nightmare ground" where we will come to back up, in battle, a group of soldiers who are losing many men quickly. After this who knows where we will be going, will this war ever end?

-Stefan


The following is the poem "Vergissmeinnicht" by Keith Douglas-

Vergissmeinnicht

Three weeks gone and the combatants gone
returning over the nightmare ground
we found the place again, and found
the soldier sprawling in the sun.

The frowning barrel of his gun
overshadowing. As we came on
that day, he hit my tank with one
like the entry of a demon.

Look. Here in the gunpit spoil
the dishonoured picture of his girl
who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht.
in a copybook gothic script.

We see him almost with content,
abased, and seeming to have paid
and mocked at by his own equipment
that's hard and good when he's decayed.

But she would weep to see today
how on his skin the swart flies move;
the dust upon the paper eye
and the burst stomach like a cave.

For here the lover and killer are mingled
who had one body and one heart.
And death who had the soldier singled
has done the lover mortal hurt.

-- Keith Douglas