The Commander

The commander viewed the enemy,
As he peered out from the spruce,

The soldiers amassed in trenches,

Awaiting hell to break loose.

The mortars lay in camo,

Manned and prefire checks complete,

The barrage guns one mile away,

Safe from the imminent heat.

The bombers reported standby,

As they circled far from sight,

But they were just a call away,

And they were itching for a fight.

The commander spotted movement,

To the right side of his force,

An indication of a flanking move,

A complication in due course.
 

The battlefield was deathly silent,

And slight fog was floating through,

The time to unleash was moments away,

A few nervous minutes for his crew.

A flare was fired from the enemy,

As it sailed up from their mound,

And distant barrage boomed faintly,

But it still rumbled the ground.

The commander ordered barrage, 

And the bombers to do a run,

As he told his troops to take cover,

This battle had just begun