A Field Hospital in Mosul


A Day in a Field Hospital in Mosul

An armoured car, hurtles through eastern Mosul at speed

It veers passed fleeing civilians and sounds its horn

And screeches to a halt, as the wounded bleed

And are dragged inside, where their clothes are torn

From broken bodies, from the mortar attack

And the masonry dust, has turned soldiers white

These are the first casualties, in war torn Iraq

As another day dawns, in this bloodied fight

A mortar, a mortar, my boy!’ a woman cries

And bloodied chunks of hair, from his head are cut

Whilst a middle aged man, on a camp bed dies

As his intestines, bulge and fall from his gut

A teenage girl, with a heavily bandaged face

Is lifted from a car and is rushed inside

And an elderly man, is moved to make space

On to the floor, he lies with wide open eyes

A child sits motionless and wrapped in metalic foil

And watches the chaos around him unfold

A weeping soldier, drags his comrade across the soil

And on to a makeshift bed he is hurriedly rolled

The air is filled with the sound of screaming

As more civilians with blown off limbs arrive

The hospital beds are full and blood is streaming

With supplies so short, only a few will survive

One soldier lies trembling on a rickety bed

Whilst medics push wadding into a wide tear

The wound is deep upon his head

His comrade sits by him with a blank stare

He whispers words of comfort and lights a cigarette

As the blood drips into pools on to the floor

This is a scene he will never forget

Even though he’s seen this many times before

A man shouts for dressings, but his friend is dead

His foot protrudes from beneath soiled sheets

He was shot by ISIS, as they fled

Through western Mosul’s winding streets

As fast as doctors can work, they still appear

With casualties, there’s no time for those who’ve died

And drips running out of saline, they now fear

More will die, however hard they have tried

The flow of the injured ceases with the setting sun

And the hospital falls silent, as they set alight

Bloodied bandages, another day is gone

They hope that it will be quiet tonight

But tomorrow will be just another day

Whilst the fighting continues, as people still flee

From Jihadists, whose only aim is to slay

Families as they escape through Mosul’s debris






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