The Falklands Conflict
Poems by Trace Currall, Juan Miguel Idiazabal, David Morgan

In April 1982, twenty-seven years ago, the Falklands Conflict or as the crisis is known in Argentina, de las Malvinas/Guerra del Atlántico Sur began. On April 2, 1982 Argentina invaded and occupied the Falkland Islands and the island of South Georgia over a dispute between the South American country and Great Britain. Argentina considered the invasión as a re-occupation of its own territory. Though the conflict was never officially declared as a war, in just 74 days nearly 1,000 were killed. So frequently regional conflicts are shelved and not studied or explored for their impact for all those involved. One of our My Voice members, Trace Currall, a former Royal Marines Commando and veteran of the Falklands campaign posted a number of poems about the conflict on his page. We've included two of them below, added the work of a young Argentinean, Juan Miguel Idiazabal and one by David Morgan.

Burying the Dead I by Trace Currall Burying the dead is a metaphor. They don't literally mean bury the dead Try not to think too much about it They mean put things to rest Pull your socks up Stop harping on Get on with it Let things lie Get a grip Forget. They've never buried the dead. Literally

Body Bags by Trace Currall lead-lined bags in a steel shell contain the ruins of boys steel-tined tags in brass shells contain the boy's ruin brass and lead filled mags steel Argentine boys ruined by containers mined grass sags as skin containers steal to lead other boy's ruin stealing dog tags ruined my mind burying lead-lined bags

WaR In memorial of those who fell in the Falkland (Malvinas) War By Juan Miguel Idiazabal WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR 27 years ago Argentina cried. WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR War devastated the islands, war ripped the Argentineans' hearts. WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR 27 years ago thousands of kids died only 649 reside on the islands, the rest carry their crosses across the land, who knows when they've died where have they died for what reason they've died WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR 27 years ago. WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR Today we still cry, for those who died. WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR WARWARWARWARWARWARWARWARWAR

No heroes by David Morgan There were no heroes here Amongst the men who tramped through Rutted, quaking moor, Or crawled, cat-silent, Over skittering scree To prove the way. No heroes fought the blazing fires Which sucked the very blood from Ship and man alike. Or braved knife cold Without a thought To save a life. No heroes they, but ones who loved Sweet life and children's laugh, And dreamt of home When war allowed. They were but men.