Bill's Capture
In the Mediterranean a merchant’s vessel/
hugs the coast from Libya to Greece/
bowing to the storm/
its lumbering stern begins to grieve/
beneath cruel waves the air is thick/
a chamber of despair of unwashed bodies/
festering wounds and uniforms filthy
latrine buckets overflowing
lungs crying out for oxygen
from the silence of a submarine/
immediately four hundred lives are lost/
amidst the wreckage a German soldier/
a courageous spark with keys in hand/
unlocks the shadows for captive humans/
still praying for land where hope was stark/
a hundred souls trembled/ jumped into the dark swell below/
only to be met by the propellers roar/
torsos and limbs the hungry engine’s parts/
frantically the men were thrown to their death/
“We need a swimmer, who can swim that far?”
A brawny lad from New Zealand stood tall
“I’m as strong as an ox/ bound me with rope”
“I’ll get it to shore. Let me answer the call”.
As the ship slowly sank they stand there watching/
as he swims with a force that matches the sea/
others follow but the sea’s unforgiving/
a fierce desperation/ struggle stretched thin/
the ocean/ relentless/ its hunger unfurled/
one by one to the depths some slip in/
at long last the shore looms/ a promise of refuge/
exhausted bodies/ hands grasp hands/
they beach on the rocks/ remnants/
in the light of dawn against a heartless state/
as dawn’s cruel fingers drip gold on the dead/
with uniforms marching a morning of iron/
hope lay in shreds as morning arrived/
still in the depths of despair/
the human heart sang of bravery forged/
and to each his own a story unheard/
This is the fourth in a cycle of poems about my grandad (in-law). This concerns his capture and transportation onboard the Sebastiano Veniero which was sunk by the British mid-December 1941. The poem is based upon first hand accounts.
